


A Twist in Time

by softlyhiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Another Time Travel Story, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulation is a game Tom has mastered, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Original Characters - Freeform, Slight Alternate Universe, Slow Burn, Some Dark Content, Tom Riddle Era, Young Tom Riddle, warnings at the start of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12399048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyhiss/pseuds/softlyhiss
Summary: After casting a spell that is unclear in what it does, Harry wakes up to find himself in another's body. As if that wasn’t enough, the year is 1942. He’s adamant about avoiding a mini dark lord and messing with the timeline any. Too bad Tom seems to have plans of his own. Harry has an agenda of his own before getting back home as well. AUish, Tomarry. Rated E for future chapters.





	1. Death Due us Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape and suicide. Nothing at all graphic, just mentions of it.

Fate had a funny way of really fucking Harry over. He’d noticed many times before, and perhaps now he was finally free of all that. Done with Fate jerking his chain, done with trying to survive each and every school year, done with people he knew and loved dying while he lived on through the pain. Just… Done. He wished he could have lived a different life. He really did, but he was fine with accepting the embrace of death and seeing his family again as well. It was peaceful for a moment.

 

He remembered Voldemort coming for him, casting the one unforgivable Harry had survived before. Harry hadn’t thought, just acted. He casted back an experimental spell that should have removed Voldemort completely. It was discussed at length with Hermione, and it seemed like the best idea to him, and in ways she reluctantly agreed, but only if they failed in finding the Horcruxes. Something had obviously failed with the spell, perhaps it didn’t land? Perhaps the spells they both cast landed somehow? Either way, he hoped his friends would be alright.

 

For now though, he drifted in nothingness. Complete silence and well… Nothing was the best way he could possibly hope to explain it. He was sure he was dead, just waiting for Death to guide his soul to wherever his family was waiting for him. Or perhaps the nothingness was all there was? He didn't mind. It was peaceful, something he never truly experienced. He didn’t know how long he’d already been there, or how much longer he would be. Still, he knew he could stay here forever, it just seemed so nice. Then, it all came crashing down quite spectacularly.

 

His body jerked, lungs fighting to remember how to breath, it felt like he was suffocating, unable to suck in any breath around him. Like a flick of a switch, his body seemed to remember how to do basic functions and air flooded into his system so suddenly he felt dizzy from the abruptness of the action. He could hear talking, urgent and somebody pressing something to his lips. It tasted awful, but he swallowed, not fond of the idea of choking or drowning on what he assumed was a potion. It was taken away from him after a moment thankfully, bitter aftertaste still clinging to his tongue.

 

Everything was dark and blurred, like his eyes hadn’t quite caught up to figuring out how to see, much as his lungs had. He felt magic tickling against his skin. From the cold air against his sweating body and the light traces of magic, it gave him a contrast that told him he was in a lot of pain. He didn’t know who was helping him - there hadn’t been many who would when Voldemort and him fought - and even if there was, surely the Death Eaters wouldn’t allow anyone to treat him.

 

His thoughts drifted back into unconsciousness as his eyes seemed to close on their own, thinking to himself that he clearly wasn’t dead. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he knew he wasn’t rejoicing at the revelation. Hopefully he hadn’t failed at the spell as much as Voldemort clearly had.

 

* * *

 

Waking up again, Harry still felt sore and in pain. Blinking several times at the light above him, he furrowed his eyebrows at the sight above him. It was very familiar, coming in crystal clear yet he knew he couldn’t feel his glasses against his face. He knew where he was, having been there several times in his life. Hogwarts, more specifically in the hospital wing. Why was he here of all places? After Dumbledore had died he was sure that he’d never be back. Yet… He was here. Why? How? He had been at the Bill and Fleur's wedding when Voldemort attacked. 

 

Still, he was sore and he sat up slowly, noticing the curtain around his bed. He felt… Different. His body felt heavy with pain and yet lighter then he would have expected. He also felt shorter somehow. Looking down at the gown he was in, he’d clearly been changed out of his robes. He took stock of the pain, but that was hard. Everything hurt to some degree. He looked at his hands, arms bandaged. That wasn’t what caught his attention though. His skin was a light color, like he hadn’t seen the sun for a long time. Had he been out that long? No, it was like his skin almost had never seen the sun. That took years to reverse after all his quidditch practice and time outside, both at school and working in the garden at the Dursleys from a young age. He had been very tanned, and he had never seen his skin this pale ever before.

 

Then his eyes fell to his hands, there wasn’t the scar there, the one that toad Umbridge had given him. Confusion and apprehension was one of the two major emotions coursing through him, but really, he was trying not to panic about the changes. He moved his legs to the side of the bed, parts of it also bandaged, the skin showing through too white to comprehend. He was about the stand when the curtains pulled back slightly. A woman was watching him sternly, “Don’t you even think of getting out of bed! You need much more rest!” Though she had the outfit of Hogwarts Mediwitch, it seemed rather dated and she was most certainly not Madame Pomfrey.

 

His caution shot through the roof. He did not trust people he didn’t know, for good reason. Yet he hadn’t died here yet. Or was this some strange afterlife? “Who are you? Why am I here?” Harry demanded back.

 

She blinked, looking a bit surprised and seemed to stump her out of whatever lecture she was about to give. Shaking her head as if to clear it she said, “I will gladly answer any questions I’m able, Mr. Anderson, but you must stay in bed for the time being, and probably for the next week at the very least!”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson?” Harry questioned, because that most certainly wasn’t his name. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. The spell he used. The one to displace Voldemort. He didn’t expect this to be the results, but apparently it had backfired. Spectacularly. Well, it’s a good thing it didn’t hit Voldemort, if he would have turned out to be a student at Hogwarts, there was already enough going on without him running around with students. But where did that leave Harry? Stuck in another’s body apparently. He was… In a body that was not his own and belonged to somebody else. Sucking in a deep breath, he moved his shaking hands to feel his face. It only confirmed his suspicion when he was met with a completely different facial structure then he was used to.

 

“Oh dear.” The mediwitch stated, seeming to catch onto something, “How much do you remember dear?”

 

Harry took a deep, deep breath, trying to calm down. “This is Hogwarts.” He started, and she seemed to perk up, giving a nod. “I don’t know much else. I don’t even know… What’s my full name?” Though it felt like a betrayal to this body to say it was ‘his’ name.

 

Whatever relief she had worked up faded quickly, “Oh my. I’m sorry you don’t remember, here, lie back in bed, you’re straining yourself.” Harry nodded, not really feeling like just lying in a medical bed while he just body snatched somebody, but he could feel the strain of sitting. Plus, he needed answers. Laying back slowly, the mediwitch pulled covers back over him, ran a couple of diagnostic spells before sitting down beside him. There must not have been very many other patients then. That was a good sign.

 

“Let’s start with some questions. You’ve already said you don’t remember your name, but you recall this is Hogwarts. Can you tell me what year is it?”

 

Harry nodded, sure he could do that, at least. “It’s 1997.”

 

Her lips pulled into a frown, showing that answer was not what she expected. “No, I’m afraid that it is 1942.”

 

“What?” Harry couldn’t help but startle out. No, that wasn’t possible, surely? No wizard was ever heard of going that far back in time.

 

“I’m sorry, but do you know who the Minister of Magic is?”

 

“No… I…” If he had the wrong year, he had no idea who would be Minister. “I know what that is, but I don’t know who's in office.”

 

She nodded, and didn’t seem at all surprised. “Well, how about the headmaster? Do you know his name?”

 

“No.” Harry spoke out shakily, looking down at the hands that were not his own, yet attached to his current body.

 

“Alright. I’ll fill you in dear, don’t you worry. You were found severely hurt four days ago. You even died there for a moment.” Harry closed his eyes. He could guess that the person who did live in this body had died. He didn’t feel anyone’s presence in it, no screaming or talking to be heard inside the recesses of his head. No extra magic either. Strangely enough, his magic felt like his own. “You made it back thankfully, but it seems you’ve lost your memory. I’ll give you a full report of your injuries in a moment if you’d like.” Harry nodded, he wanted to know what had happened to kill this body. “You are a fourth year in Ravenclaw, named Frederick Anderson.” What a stupid sounding name. Harry felt a bit bad about thinking that, the kid had died. His life was just beginning, a fourth year at hogwarts and he had died. Harry felt shame at making fun of something so stupid.

 

“The current headmaster is Armando Dippet.” Harry recognized that name, and in a sudden flash of realization, he remembered the year she told him. Tom Riddle was alive and around. Fuck his life. Fate was still yanking his chain it seemed. He definitely needed to get out of this time period. He would most likely influence time, and Hermione had often drilled it into his head how dangerous that could be. “He will wish to see you once you’re well, I’m sure.” Something must have shown on his face, probably the disbelief he felt. She huffed a bit and said, “You were clearly attacked by multiple people. That is very serious. Though without your memory… I’d hate to ask you to recall what you’ve gone through, but do you remember any students who would do so?”

 

Harry shook his head in the negative, a bit shocked. He’d been attacked? By multiple people? Why? What for? “No, I don’t remember anything.” The line of questioning and information went on, and she gave him a record of his injuries she had made when he first came in and left him to his own devices, promising to return with food or if he called for her.

 

What the scroll contained wasn’t pretty. He had been hurt, and badly. Yet he found out what had probably been the finishing blow that had killed the kid. After reading it - one of the final things listed he had already felt sick but had looked down at his bandaged left wrist. Apparently the only self inflicted wound. Harry put the paper down and tugged at his too long, too straight hair and resisted the urge to cry or scream or just make a fuss.

 

This poor kid had been attacked, raped, and very severely hurt. Apparently there were other older injuries that had never been treated. This was an ongoing thing. Had nobody noticed? How long had this kid, Frederick, been put through hell? Glowering angrily, he felt sick as well as rage. The kid had apparently had enough, and Harry could only imagine how desperately he wished to die. More so than Harry had ever felt obviously, because the kid had committed to the action.

 

Trying not to think about things like if the boy regretted it at the end or how much pain he must have been in, Harry swore that while he was in this time period he would try and help the poor dead soul. He would try and find who did it, and turn them in. If none of the adults cared or did anything suitable… Oh who was he kidding? They wouldn’t help much. A couple detentions? Maybe suspension at worse? No, Harry was furious for this child. He would do whatever he could to make sure they at least got expelled. Their wands broken and unable to ever do magic seemed fitting.

 

Too angry to sleep, even with his body wishing to, Harry ate what the Mediwitch brought him silently, and she didn’t talk about what was in the scroll, and neither did he. After he ate, he did fall into uneasy sleep.

 

A week had gone by. Harry couldn’t use the boy’s wand at all, and had put in a request to get a new one, since it was basically a stick for him. His personality must not have fit the boy very well. Yet, what saddened him was not a single soul came to visit. Which was also a bit of a relief, since he didn’t have to try and explain that he didn’t know who he was to a virtual stranger. Didn’t the other have friends though? It seemed not.

 

The bandages were off and he was in old fashioned Ravenclaw robes now. There were plenty of scars, but Harry was used to those by now. Just… Not in the places he had them currently. He had gotten a look in the mirror finally, and he had seen light blue eyes staring back at him in place of green, light brown hair that was longer than his usual haircut, but still didn’t even reach the shoulders. He looked cute, and a lot like a second year instead of a fourth year. He was about Harry’s same weight and height around this time though, if not a bit smaller. Then again, Harry had been told he wasn’t average in either.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder who the other boy was, what he was like, and how he was going to get back to his own body. Thankfully his request for a new wand was approved before he was released from the medical wing. That was actually the first place to go. Professor Dumbledore escorted him to Diagon Alley, and Harry tried to pretend he didn’t know the man, tried not to be angry or sad at the sight of his old Headmaster and mentor. He hadn’t changed much either.

 

What worried Harry was that he got his same wand at Ollivander’s. If he had it now… Then would he be able to get it in the future? He wasn’t sure. He took it anyway, enjoying something familiar. Ollivander seemed more pleased to state he had a brother wand, also attending Hogwarts. There was no dread behind the others words this time, but Harry was not happy with the reminder and determined to stay as far away from Tom Riddle as he possibly could. Harry kept the old wand that belonged to Frederick. Perhaps to remind himself that he was merely an intruder, but truly he couldn’t think of much else to do to honor the boy’s memory.

 

Dumbledore paid for him, thankfully enough, and had him back before dinner, and Harry went into the Great Hall. Not much was different, but there were a few things. Like the different faces of teachers for one. Though Slughorn he recognized easily enough. At least Snape wasn’t here. Thoughts darkening, he had to remind himself to sit at the Ravenclaw table. Anybody who was there ignored him, like he hadn’t been gone for weeks. Even one person he sat somewhat close to scooted away from him, giving a sneer. Didn’t seem like the kid was popular. He wondered why. It was rather rude though.

 

Harry didn’t say anything as he started eating, wondering if he would have to make up a week's worth of homework. Apparently the teachers had been notified about his amnesia, and that he might need extra help in the class. Though term had only just started, so Harry hoped that he wouldn’t have to catch up too much. Though if it was the similar classes as the future, he should be able to pass all his classes, being the second time round. If he stayed that long anyway, he hoped not. He would have to find a more stable spell that would allow him to return to his own body.

 

He didn’t know where the Ravenclaw dorms were, so he discreetly followed some of his housemates to the dorm, listening to the riddle they answered and followed them inside. Though at that point some had noticed him and scoffed a bit. One of them muttering - loud enough for Harry to hear - “I don’t know why he’s in Ravenclaw.” It was said with such bitterness Harry once more wondered at the dislike people seemed to have for him.

 

He had to ask where his room was, which gathered more sneers and straight up insults before he was told and shooed away. Harry, still feeling a bit confused, not to mention angry, walked to his dorm. When he got there, there was another Ravenclaw boy already sitting there, who looked up and grunted in displeasure before looking back at the book he was reading. Harry looked at each bed before he noticed that one of them was missing a trunk, and all the others didn’t have his name. Walking over to the bed, he frowned when he noticed the blankets in tatters too.

 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out this kid was bullied a lot. From physical and magical abuse to childish things like this apparently. “Where’s my trunk?” He questioned instead, turning to the only other resident, who looked up, sly smirk on his face to show he knew something.

 

“Probably at the bottom of the black lake by now.”

 

Harry felt anger coil in him. What was with everybody’s attitude towards this kid? Nobody deserved this much harassment. It probably had all his books and school equipment in it too! “Why would you do that?” Harry snapped, but really he wanted to hear the answer.

 

The other boy seemed a little shocked, to say the least, but recovered quickly with a nasty smile that reminded Harry of Dudley. “What? Grew a backbone while you were in the medical ward or something?”

 

“Maybe I did.” Harry glared.

 

The other seemed once again stumped. So Frederick probably didn’t stand up for himself very often. Who would, after constant harassment? Harry felt for the kid. The boy scowled this time. “Don’t try and act all high and mighty. You’re nothing, mudblood.”

 

Oh, maybe that’s why Frederick had a problem. At least part of the reason anyway was he was a muggleborn. Harry glowered, but turned back to the bed, taking out his wand and fixing the sheets and blankets so they weren’t nearly as destroyed. He kept the boy in his peripheral, who seemed to be staring at him, though with what expression Harry couldn’t deduce from the angle. Once his bed was set, and with no clothes to change into, he climbed into bed.

 

Tugging the curtains closed, he put up some spells that would hopefully protect him in the night. One being just a simple alarm to wake him should somebody try opening the curtains. Somebody meant him serious harm, and until he learned who, he was going to be careful. Putting his own wand under the pillow, he laid down, glaring up at the top of the bed. This was going to be a long, tedious school year. For the time he had to stick around, but that was little comfort. Once he was sure everybody else who came into the dorm was asleep did he allow himself to as well.

 

At least he didn’t have any visions of Voldemort here.

 

He woke up relatively early, and dismantled the spells he put up last night before showering and getting changed back into the same clothes. Sneaking out of the dorm, he was glad he still had his class schedule as well as their locations within the school in his pocket. If his teachers had sent it to his room, he would have most certainly lost it. Going to the black lake, and missing the sight of the whomping willow, he tried an accio in case they hadn’t thrown his trunk too far into the water. It seemed like this time, he was in luck as the trunk came out of the water and crashing onto the pebbles near his feet. Pocketing his wand, he opened the trunk, sighing heavily as it was full of water. Dumping it out took time, especially with how much weaker this body was. Once that was done, he saw the kid had little possessions, but that was unsurprising.

 

A few robes and sleepwear, school books, and a cauldron and potion set. Everything soaking wet. At least the books weren’t falling apart from being in the water. He spent some time drying out each item with spells, before casting some protection spells on his trunk that would be far beyond any fourth years. Taking the trunk after everything was dry and repacked, he went back to the Ravenclaw dorm. Nobody seemed surprised at the sight of him dragging his trunk behind him, battered thing it was. Most just snickered. He was really hating this time period. He put his trunk where it belonged in his room, and for extra measure, made sure it was much heavier and harder to move. Only then did he start for his first class.

 

It had taken longer than he thought, and he knew he couldn’t eat in time to get to class. He’d have to make due until lunch. Opening his schedule, he started for Transfiguration.

 

The class had been annoying, Dumbledore had tried having him sit out for a bit, so he could get caught up. Harry had refused, gathering many confused looks from his classmates. After some convincing, he was able to participate. Dumbledore seemed rather pleased, but shocked when he completed the assignment before everybody else. Everybody else in the class seemed surprised as well, many glaring at him suspiciously, like he’d cheated somehow. At least he’d gotten his house points.

 

He chalked it up to the assumption that the teachers figured he wouldn’t remember the material because of his amnesia. This seemed more stretched the longer he went to classes. The reactions were about the same. Which probably meant that Frederick wasn’t that great at spell casting. Harry suddenly wondered if perhaps the wand had never been right, much like with Neville. It would hurt confidence, he knew, and would explain some animosity with the other Ravenclaw students.

 

It didn’t excuse anything anybody had done to Frederick, but maybe he was finally getting answers? He only had Charms, Transfigurations and Division that day. Still, he was given a lot of homework he had missed over the last week by each teacher, something he was not looking forward to. Especially since he learned that most the curricular was about the same. It was the next day he was looking forward to, he only had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. While not looking forward to Potions, he couldn’t wait for his favorite subject, and perhaps they’d have a competent teacher in this time period. The name - Professor Merrythought - sounded vaguely familiar, but with all the memories Dumbledore had shown him it was possible he had heard the name in passing.

 

Being the class he was actually good at during school, and enjoyed (when the teachers weren’t trying to kill him that was) he was actually looking forward to it a bit. He sat down on the same side a couple Ravenclaw students had already sat on. However, he sat away from them, already knowing that they would move away, scowl, and so on. It was probably for the best. He didn’t want to cause a stir in time any more then he probably already was doing. A couple gave him seething looks, but mainly he was ignored.

 

He hoped that they would do some practical spells today, he got a bit of happiness at proving the other students wrong about Frederick being what they probably thought as pathetic. It burned his insides with anger too though. Never had he seen such bullying in his time. Was it really all because he was a muggleborn? Glancing to the other side of the room where he saw some Slytherin’s talking, he hardly paid them any mind. That was until his eyes landed on a loner sitting near the back.

 

There was nothing he could do but stare. He expected to see Tom Riddle around school, but surely he wasn’t a fourth year? This assumption that he was higher education level was apparently wrong. What made Harry really pause was just how young Riddle looked. Looking every bit a teenager.  _ “A highly murderous teenager.” _  Harry scoffed internally before looking away. Of course his favorite class had to have some sort of drawback to it. He had to share it with Riddle. Well, as long as they didn’t interact. Harry didn’t even entertain the thought of killing the other. Even supposing he could get back to his time period, he was sure things would be so different that he wouldn’t even be sure what type of difference it would be. Surely it would be better, but he couldn’t count on that. Though if he was being honest, he doubted he could kill anyone, even Tom. So, he decided to stick to the plan to ignore Riddle. He doubted it would be a problem to do so.

 

When Professor Merrythought came into the class once everybody was settled, he actually was a bit different going about Harry. “Mr. Anderson, considering that you’ve been in the medical ward for the last week and have amnesia, don’t feel like you have to participate. If you wish to go over the material, don’t worry about it.” It was the first time that Harry had been given a choice so far. The first teacher who had mentioned he had amnesia straight out too. He could hear others mutter around the word. He was used to mutters about him though, so he focused on the professor.

 

“I would like to participate, sir.” Harry said politely.

 

Merrythought nodded, not seeming too surprised one way or the other, and got on with the lesson. Harry still remembered the questions asked, and how they got more complicated as it went on, Harry listened silently until it seemed nobody was going to answer the last one spoken, and only then did he raise his hand and answer it. Merrythought seemed quite shocked by that, but awarded him some house points after staring at him. The silence in the room showed the students shock too. Harry found the material below him, for once in his life. It was nice to know the answers. He wondered briefly if this was how Hermione felt when she knew things. It wasn’t bad, though a bit boring going over the same materials.

 

They practiced a simple jynx after that, one that Harry already knew, and only did once he was asked if he would like to demonstrate it or sit out. He was a bit miffed at all the opportunities to sit out, and so put more effort in doing it flawlessly. Merrythought seemed rather pleased. This didn’t stop him from giving Harry the week's worth of homework he missed after class. Harry hated how full his bag was getting. At least he could cast a feather light charm on it.

 

After that, he headed down to Potions class. After Slughorn making a small joke about him not blowing up the attempt at what they were brewing, Harry once again felt insulted. It seemed most the teachers either babied or made fun of Frederick as well. Was he really that alone before? Some students snickered at him, but a lot of the Ravenclaws who shared classes with him were catching on, giving him looks of mostly suspicion.

 

Harry wasn’t the best at potions, but it was amazing what having brewed them before did, and not having Snape breathing down his neck. It wasn’t perfect, but he bet it was at least acceptable before he bottled it and turned it in with some other students. Slughorn looked rather shocked at his success, something Harry wished to remember for some time. He didn’t appreciate all the jabs at this kid.

 

Again, he was given homework on top of everything else. He sighed heavily when he left the room. He had free periods for the rest of the day. He wondered if he could try out for quidditch for the Ravenclaw team. He doubted he’d enjoy the slower brooms as much, and he knew he would have to make an impression to get passed the bias everybody in his house seemed to have against him. It might have been worth it if tryouts were soon.

 

For now, he thought of all the homework he needed to catch up on. He didn’t really want to be in the common room of his house. He disliked most everybody there. So, he started for the library. Suddenly he felt his foot trip over apparently nothing. Only years with tripping over Dudley’s fat foot kept him on his feet, though he stumbled noticeably. Turning, he glared at the students who just passed him, snickering. Harry sighed again, trying to uncurl the seemingly constant anger in his chest before he started for the library. It was only a tripping spell, yet the fact that it had happened at all - and by a couple of students from another house, didn’t help his mood. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything yet that day, and detoured to lunch. Again, most people ignored him, but some were actually giving him strange looks.

 

Maybe he should tone down how well he was doing in class. Then he remembered all the babying the teachers did, and the way his housemates treated him and quickly decided against it. Once he ate quickly, he continued to the library. There weren’t too many students, most going to their classes and electives. Though Harry noticed a lack of those on his own schedule. Probably proof of more babying and belittling.

 

Searching for a table out of the way, he noticed another occupant. He almost passed her by at the sight of Ravenclaw robes, as he had already made a habit of doing. Then he realized very suddenly he recognized her. The sight of her was like a shock, even though he really shouldn’t be. Sitting at the table, sniffling a bit and favoring her arm was Moaning Myrtle, only alive. Without the ghostly image of her, he hadn’t recognized her at all. In fact, he wondered why he hadn’t in any of the classes they had most certainly shared… Unless she was a year below him? That was possible.

 

Taking a step forward, he stopped, trying to remind himself not to mess with the timeline. When he noticed the small crack in her lenses, he couldn’t help but continue. “Myrtle?” He asked as he approached, ashamed to admit he didn’t recall if he ever learned her full name. Her head snapped up, clearly expecting something else, because when her eyes met his she relaxed visibly.

 

“Anderson.” She said, straightening out and seeming to try and pretend nothing was wrong. “What… What do you what?” Her voice was laced with suspicion.

 

“I was wondering if I could sit with you?” Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Her eyes went wide and she stilled, mouth slightly open before her expression hardened again.

 

“What? Want to make fun of me?” She paused a moment, seeming confused, “No, you wouldn’t do that… You’re targeted more than me.” She seemed to mutter this to herself, as if trying to figure something out.

 

“So I’ve noticed. Can I sit?” She hesitated again, but then nodded. Sitting down across from her, he put his bag down beside him. “Sorry for intruding, if I am. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.” Myrtle still seemed unsure, but nodded.

 

“I heard you were in the medical wing for the last week… Are you alright?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if somebody might hear something they shouldn’t.

 

Harry smiled a bit at that, “A few more scars, but honestly I don’t remember it at all. I don’t remember anything.”

 

“Anything?” She asked, in a much higher, startled voice. She cleared her throat and asked at a much more normal tone, “You don’t remember anything?”

 

“Nope. Couldn’t remember my name, or what house I was in even.” Harry confirmed.

 

“Oh! That’s dreadful.” Yet the way she said it sounded like she found the news thrilling. Considering how she talked about her death, he supposed she just liked morbid things.

 

“It’s been a bit odd. Do you know why people target me so much?” Because surely there was a reason for all the harassment. Nothing excused what happened to the boy, but surely they had reasons of their own? Something?

 

“Well, you are a muggleborn. I think that’s mostly why. Plus they think it’s a shameful thing that you're in our house but can’t do anything. And they’re horrid people.” Myrtle muttered, clearly thinking of her own abuse.

 

“What happened to you?” Harry risked asking.

 

“I just fell over a stupid tripping spell. Broke my glasses though.” She stated, apparently miserable at the mention.

 

“I know how to fix them. I can if you want.” He offered, having had to fix his own glasses on many occasions, he had gotten good at that particular spell.

 

She gave him a doubtful look. “From what I hear, even before your amnesia you couldn’t cast a spell to save your life.”

 

“So I’ve picked up. If I fail, I’ll buy you a new pair.” Though he didn’t know if he even had any money.

 

Myrtle still seemed doubted, but nodded, taking them off and squinting at him as she handed them over. Harry took them and cast the spell quickly before handing them back. She slipped them back onto her face, blinking a few times before smiling widely. “You really did do it!” Harry snorted at the others excitement, not taking too much insult at the question of his - or rather Frederick’s - ability. “That’s amazing, can you teach me?”

 

“Sure.” Harry was fine with that, and did so for the next hour, and Myrtle seemed to pick it up quickly enough. After that, they worked on homework together. Something Harry was grateful for was the occasional conversation. He’d been dreading doing homework alone, though he hadn’t realized that until now. He welcomed her company, and tried not to think of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will put any warnings I think of before the chapter. Let me know if I miss any!
> 
> Cross-posting on fanfiction. Let me know what you all think, thank you. I already have a good portion of the story done, so this will probably update faster then my other story.


	2. Unknown Gifts

The bullying had seemed to get worse from some of the students. Harry had even gotten into a duel with a couple of them, something they regretted when they went to the hospital wing. Considering they had been sending harsh spells at Harry, he hadn’t felt very bad at all. Yet at the same time, it seemed other than a few select students, the general populace of his house had stopped glowering at him. They were mostly ignoring him now he was getting them points and able to answer questions. The narrow minded view of that angered him more, and he should have been more guilty about accepting duels with fourth and fifth years. Somehow he couldn’t find he was.

 

He was eating lunch on one of the days he had few classes when somebody actually sat beside him. Looking up in surprise, he saw somebody he did not recognize. Some people he recognized some facial or family features of. This boy didn’t seem to have enough facial features of anybody Harry knew for him to recognize as the ancestry of another. He had light blond hair and light hazel eyes. However, he had a lost sort of look that reminded him strongly of Luna, but they didn’t really share any other features, so Harry didn’t think they were related. He wore Hufflepuff robes. Some gave him odd looks for sitting at the Ravenclaw table, or perhaps just because he was sitting by the friendless Frederick. Either way, Harry gave him his attention.

 

Though it seemed the other hadn’t even sat for Harry, but was just there, as if by a whim. Harry smiled at the reminder of his friend so far from here. It had already been a couple weeks since he’d been here. He’d been trying to go through the library for anything to help. He doubted there’d be anything. If there was, it would be in the restricted section. While he had risen in the eyes of his teachers, he didn’t think he’d be able to get permission to venture into there.

 

“You’re not quite here.” The far-distant boy looked at him then.

 

“Erm… What?” That could mean so many things, yet Harry wasn’t sure what the other was getting at. The other smiled almost dreamily, but didn’t elaborate. “Right, well I’m H- Anderson. Frederick. What’s your name?”

 

“Jake.” He didn’t offer a last name, but Harry guessed that meant he was free to use Jake’s first name. Something Myrtle had actually gotten after him about was that people called each other by their last names unless they were close or friends. Jake tilted his head, as if listening to something not quite there, smile still in place. “May I join you whenever I wish?”

 

Harry wasn’t exactly sure he was the one being addressed, but seeing nobody else was really around, he nodded, “Of course. I don’t see why not.” As long as the other didn’t attack him like some were prone to do. Harry hoped not, he was already fond of Jake.

 

“Wonderful.” Then, he stood, as if again by a whim and drifted off. A Ravenclaw across from him snorted.

 

“Trust you to find the real freaks to hang out with, Anderson.” The boy sneered. Harry smiled as he sent a stinging hex at the boy under the table, who yelped at it. Perhaps it was the resemblance with Luna and the thought of how she was bullied in his time, but he didn’t like the insult directed at Jake. He’d become more free with hexes and jinxes during his time here too - had to with all the bullies.

 

Soon it became the three of them hanging out at the library table every Wednesday after lunch, Harry, Jake, and Myrtle. Jake wouldn’t contribute much to the conversation, but he seemed more out of it than even Luna at times. Sometimes it was just two of them as well, but they all became fast friends, the outcasts of the school. Harry couldn’t help but look forward to seeing them most days, despite how he knew that he shouldn’t.

 

He wasn’t any closer to finding a way home, and most certainly not any closer to figuring out the culprits who hurt Frederick. They hadn’t made themselves known, which Harry thought that they would have by now. Not by coming forth, but by attacking Harry again. While he was glad he didn’t have to fight off any real attackers while he got used to the new body, he was disappointed he hadn’t found out any new information.

 

At least most the bullies in school that had plagued him had learned quickly he would retaliate if him or his friends were bullied, or worse, hurt. They learned quickly, and while some still tried occasionally, it was much better than the first few weeks. He rose to top ranks for his year in all his classes (bar divination), second only to Tom. Except in Defense, where they were tied in that subject. Much as it left a distaste in Harry’s mouth.

 

It was hard not looking Dumbledore in the eyes during class, not wanting to risk the man seeing anything about the future. Who knew what he would do? It was a hard class in general, Dumbledore teaching it. His heart ached and he couldn’t quite quell all his anger, but he tried to keep his head down and do the assignments. Only offering answers when he was called on - which wasn’t often. He had to repeat to himself that he couldn’t mess up the timeline. Dumbledore was just as dangerous to approach as Tom himself was.

 

He still hated homework, more so with doing it a second time round, but he did learn some new things when he searched the library for ways to get home. Plus it was easier to do with company - as it always had been for him. Currently Myrtle and Jake were both in class. Myrtle was a year below him, and Jake had a different class schedule, being in Hufflepuff. Harry was skimming the books in the library, which was mostly deserted at the time of day. He had yet to truly give up with searching the main area of the library. It was so large and he had seen some books he didn’t recognize, so he was hopeful there could be something.

 

Turning a corner, he continued skimming before he saw a title that caught his eye,  _ The Theories and Errors of Time _ . That sounded like it could possibly be something useful. He stretched up, before cursing his smaller stature for what had to be the hundredth time. He hated any reminder at how mismatched his body was. Not only that of a fourth year, but not even his own body. Sighing and trying to dispel the thoughts, he dropped back onto his feet. Since all the books were protected against some spells to stop theft, damage and the like, he couldn’t simply use an Accio. Sighing, he committed to memorizing the shelf and finding a step stool.

 

“An interesting topic.” Freezing solid for a few seconds, Harry turned to look at none other than Tom fucking Riddle watching him. Harry stood very still. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to ignore Tom’s existence, try not to look at, not to talk to, and most certainly not anything else. Like killing him. Fuck, Harry wasn’t used to the other looking so young either. “Need help?”

 

“No.” Harry said instantly, perhaps a bit too quickly. Tom’s eyebrow raised. Despite Harry’s protest, Tom stepped forward, and he moved out of the way mostly to avoid touching the other. Tom was taller, but not by much, being around fourteen himself. Still, he was taller than Frederick had been. Pulling the book that had been just out of Harry’s reach, he handed it back.

 

Now Harry could admit he sometimes was very spiteful, but he needed to look through this book, so he took it. Tom didn’t do anything beside hand it over. Harry tucked it under his arm, not bothering to utter a thank you. He was about to turn on his heel and leave, but he realized before he moved that he had placed himself with his back to the window and wall. So he’d have to get past Tom.  _ “Calm down, he doesn’t know you.” _  Right, Tom would have no reason to stop him from leaving.

 

“You are Anderson, correct?” Harry gave a curt nod. Tom gave a hum, Harry didn’t bother to ask for the others name, though perhaps he should, just so in case he accidentally said it, he’d have a reason to know it? No, Tom wouldn’t be interacting with him after this, Harry would make sure of it. “You don’t seem like him.”

 

Panic filled him at the words. What? Tom couldn’t possibly know who he was. There was no possible way. Time aside, Harry didn’t look anything like himself. He hoped his panic didn’t show on his face as he swallowed and spoke, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

 

Tom observed him for a tense, silent moment. “Before you were rather pathetic.” Anger filled him at the words. Was Tom somebody who bullied him too? Had he orchestrated the attack of Frederick? Harry wouldn’t have been all that shocked.

 

“Don’t you dare insult him.” Harry growled out.

 

“Him?” Tom asked, seemingly innocent. Harry knew it wasn’t at all, and felt like kicking himself at such a slip up.

 

“It feels wrong to call myself the same person, because yeah, I’ve changed. That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“You aren’t the same at all.” Tom hummed, still watching Harry with intensity. It made him uncomfortable, but didn’t decrease his anger any.

 

Harry tried to calm himself a bit, he couldn’t do anything against Tom that was too harmful, though his hand did itch to grab his wand. He supposed such a response was natural, faced with the mini Dark Lord of his time. “Just because I’m doing better in class doesn’t mean I’m a different person.” He had to try and get Tom off this path. It could prove dangerous. If anybody could figure it out of course it would somehow be Tom.

 

“Yes, second in any classes we share, and first in one's we do not.” Tom probably loved being superior to Harry, though it wasn’t that much of an accomplishment. Tom was a known genius. Harry didn’t really care about grades all that much. If it got under Tom’s skin to be in second, perhaps he should try a little harder. At least he had DADA almost covered. “That is not exactly what I was referring to, but it is one point of difference, yes. I have hardly heard of a case of amnesia changing somebody’s demeanor so much they are a different person.”

 

“I don’t know your interest in me, but it isn’t welcome.” Harry gritted out, hoping the other would drop it.

 

“Most are interested. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but you’ve gathered a lot of attention from our peers. Different from before.”

 

“When they would attack me in the hallway? Somehow I bet you had no problem participating.”

 

Tom raised an eyebrow again, “Hardly. What reason would I have to do so?” He spoke like he was above it, which only pissed Harry off more, “Muggleborns hardly have reason to attack each other.”

 

Muggleborn? Harry knew he was considered such, but Tom still thought… He knew that the other hadn’t opened the Chamber of Secrets yet, what with the lack of petrified students and a dead Myrtle - don’t think about that - but the other thought he was muggleborn still? Harry had to bite his lip to prevent himself from saying anything. As amusing as it would be to see Tom try and figure out how Harry knew stuff, he was trying to be under the radar. “So… You’re bullied too?” And wasn’t that an odd thought? Perfect Tom who everybody sang praises about, being bullied?

 

“Not anymore. Much as yourself, once you fight them off and prove yourself, they leave well enough alone.”

 

Harry nearly sneered at another comparison between the two of them, but then it hit him. Harry remembered the first several weeks, and even occasionally now. It was rather annoying to be attacked and bullied with malicious intent as soon as he woke up. Tom had probably come into Hogwarts first year to the same experiences, without knowing anything about the wizarding world. Harry cursed the children who bullied him and probably proved in Tom’s mind that he had to fight and frighten others to be left alone. It was a lesson he probably never left behind him.

 

“Right well…” He couldn’t fix anything, he doubted even if he tried he could do anything about Tom, but he couldn’t even try with time and everything. Still, he did feel slightly bad for the other in that moment. It only lasted a moment. “Thanks for the book, I guess.” He said, making it clear he was going to go as he inched around the other.

 

Tom watched him, not seeming to even care enough to move. “Of course. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”

 

Harry cursed the words, knowing Tom meant to make it happen. How in the world had he perked the other's interest? He had no idea. Walking away, he rubbed his forehead, while there was no scar there, he felt like he was going to get a headache from the interaction. He found an isolated table to read silently at. Feeling a bit off though, he just worked on homework for a time before finally feeling well enough to start flipping through the text he had pulled down. It was a thick tome and would probably take several days to get through if he read it constantly. Considering his attention span, he’d usually give it a couple weeks. However, he made it a point since coming to this time period to read the books as quickly as he could so that his roommates couldn’t destroy anything he hadn’t yet read.

 

They were still one of the few that were vindictive and cruel towards him. Some people had slowly warmed up to him, but in such a way that was so fake and a look for help on homework, he ignored most of their attempts at ‘friendship’. It seemed that even back in the 40’s people still changed their approval to disapproval and vice versa at the stupidest of things. Harry settled himself in to start reading the book, hoping that Tom wouldn’t find the subject of time too odd to warrant investigation.

 

He pushed the thought out of his mind as Myrtle joined him after her classes, followed some time later by Jake. It was rather nice, hearing her complain about classes, teachers, and other students as Jake stared endlessly at a book before him. For a moment he just let himself enjoy the idea of being in school, almost like it was normal. To have friends complaining about classes without the threat of Lord Voldemort coming to off him or meddle with the school somehow. He could almost believe it for a moment, and find enjoyment in it. However, he knew that he couldn’t hold onto the feeling, knew he had to go back to his own time and responsibilities. For now though, he smiled with Myrtle and spoke to her about silly little things. The moment of normality it provided was something that truly meant the world to him.

 

* * *

 

Time passed, and it had been a few months since he had come too, and people largely left him alone, thankfully. The book had been a dead end, mostly talking about the consequences of time travel and how nobody had yet discovered a way to travel back very far at all. The time turners could only apparently go back as far as an hour in this time period. From what he picked up they were even rarer now than in the future as well. It was nice that there had been some progress over the years, but nothing truly remarkable in Harry’s opinion. Unfortunately it seemed the only book that came close to what he was looking for so far. He cursed not asking Hermione where she had found that experimental spell that started this whole thing.

 

Students had started leaving him alone more and more, and at this point it was becoming uncommon for anybody to try bullying him. Something he was grateful to get a break from. Tom had yet to approach him again, also something Harry was glad for. It was almost Christmas, and Harry had to admit to Myrtle and Jake that he didn’t have any money for presents. It had been only yesterday that he had to tell them.

 

“Oh, it’s Christmas?” Jake had asked, looking up and seeming to think a moment before saying, “I didn’t realize it was coming so soon. I wonder what I’ll do.”

 

“You two are just now thinking of gifts?” Myrtle demanded. She had become a bit more outspoken for the months they knew each other. As word got around that Harry, or rather Anderson, would challenge those who bullied Myrtle, and as she brushed up on her own spell work to fend them off herself, her confidence rose slightly. It was still rather low, but she seemed happier when they all hung out together. “Honestly you two!” Myrtle shook her head, before turning to look at Harry, “Frederick, in case you forgot, I’m also muggleborn.”

 

“No, I hadn’t forgotten.” Harry tried once more not to think of how she would die. Perhaps he could- No, he shouldn’t mess with time. He couldn’t. “But I wanted to let you know at least.”

 

“I thought of having my parents pick things up for you two, but I doubt having muggle things would be helpful. I can’t think of anything that would be useful! I’ve some money left over from the muggleborn fund. Surely you do too, Frederick?”

 

“I don’t think I do.” Anything he had was probably stolen away from him before he came into this body. He certainly hadn’t found any money in his stuff. Another thought occurred to him though that he hadn’t thought of before, “Do I um… Have parents?”

 

Myrtle seemed shocked a moment, “I keep forgetting how much you’ve forgotten! I didn’t ever really talk to you before well… Everything. So I’m not sure who your parents would be.”

 

“Oh.” For once he hoped that the child was parentless. Rather than having a stranger wearing their child’s body coming into their home. Harry already had bouts of feeling mismatched and a stranger in this body, he didn’t need to intrude on a family that wasn’t his. It was easy hanging around Myrtle and Jake, since they hadn’t known Frederick and didn’t think he acted odd or different.

 

“I’m sure they’ll send you something though! Come Christmas, then you can write them back and explain.” Myrtle tried to comfort. It was actually one of her better attempts to comfort. Most would have probably felt better at her explanation, but he felt worse, hoping he wouldn’t receive any presents from Frederick’s family.

 

“I think I know what I shall gift you two.” Jake said suddenly, probably having zoned out for the conversation.

 

Myrtle rolled her eyes and huffed out, “Don’t you pay any attention? Honestly Jake! Frederick is worried about his family and you don’t even care?”

 

“I’m sure Jake cares.” Harry defended the other. In his own way, when he paid attention. Harry didn’t say that part aloud, it would probably make Myrtle more upset.

 

“Of course, I care very much for Harry.”

 

“His name’s Frederick!” Harry stared, mouth agape as Jake hummed and seemed to zone out again. Had he really heard that right? “Honestly, doesn’t even know your name. I didn’t think he’d be that out of it!” Myrtle huffed angrily. Harry snapped his mouth shut and looked at Myrtle, trying to clear his mind, but he was a bit shaken. He couldn’t question Jake in front of Myrtle, and his opportunity didn’t come at all that day, but it bothered him deeply. How had Jake known his name?

 

So, Harry went back to the library the next day, in hopes Jake would show up before Myrtle, as he usually did. He doubted he’d get a clear answer from the other, but he needed to try and figure this out. So he waited at their normal table, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface, too distracted to wander around looking for books or focus on homework.

 

“You seem distracted.”

 

Harry could have ripped his hair in distress, but resisted the urge as he turned to glare at Tom. Of course the other had left him alone for months, and now he had decided to disturb Harry when he was the most upset. It was like the other could tell when was the worse time. “What are you, a shark?” Smelling fresh blood or something akin to that.

 

“What an unusual comparison.”

 

“True, most probably compare you to a snake.”

 

“This a bad time?” Tom questioned, but by the smile he had, he didn't care about Harry’s response.

 

“Yeah, actually, it is.” Harry snapped, and much as predicted, Tom moved to sit across from him at the table. Harry glared. He could just leave, take his bag that he hadn’t unpacked yet and come back another day. Yet he doubted his nerves would get better with the added days without talking to Jake. He’d probably have to wait another week for a day where Jake was free before Myrtle after classes. He was not willing to risk waiting that long.

 

For a horrified moment Harry was worried Jake had told Tom something, but dismissed it, Tom would be acting much more cocky. Which was hard to imagine, but he knew it could increase. Tom didn’t say anything, just watching Harry silently for a time. He didn’t really like being observed so closely, and with his nerves already frayed, he was a bit on edge. “What?”

 

“Just wondering if you’re still insisting that you’re the same person?”

 

Harry really, truly hoped Jake had not said a word to his enemy. “Yeah, cause I am.” The lie tasted a bit bitter on his own lips, but he said it regardless.

 

“How annoying.” Tom sighed out, as if it was an inconvenience that Harry was insisting he was the same person.

 

“Look, you came here for a reason, just… What do you want?” While he wasn’t really in the mood to give Riddle anything, he also didn’t want to play any sort of mind games with him either, or deal with him in general.

 

Tom smiled again, and opened his mouth. “Am I interrupting?” A look of annoyance crossed Tom’s face at the new voice. Harry really needed to sit with his back towards the shelves instead of the entrance.

 

Standing, grabbing his bag and turning, Harry was quick to say, “Not at all, Jake. I was waiting for you to arrive.”

 

Tom sighed, standing up himself. “We’ll continue this later then.” He seemed displeased, which in turn made Harry a bit happier as the other walked back towards the entrance of the library. Harry then grabbed Jake’s wrist and pulled him further into the library. It was always pretty empty during these times, but he made sure to go to a mostly deserted area before he dropped Jake’s wrist and turned to look at him.

 

Jake was looking at him, but his eyes were a bit glassy, like he was elsewhere. As usual. How had Jake found out about him? Taking a deep breath, he wondered where to start, but decided to start simple, “Why did you call me Harry yesterday?”

 

It took maybe a full minute for Jake to come out of whatever world he was in, and ask, “Sorry, what?”

 

“Why did you call me Harry yesterday?” He asked again, trying to hold onto the thin, frayed strand of patience still inside him.

 

“Would you like me to call you something else? I thought you prefered that name.”

 

Out of all the names in the world the other could have called him, it was his real name. How? Why? He doubted it was a coincidence though. “Do you know who I am?” He tried again.

 

“In ways.” Jake said, Harry felt like shaking him at such a bland answer that didn’t really answer anything. “I know a lot of things about you.”

 

Holding his breath, he spoke again, “Like what?”

 

“You weren’t suppose to be here, not originally. You prefer the name Harry over all other names. You have a fondness for sweets. You’ve known many pains and seen death for such a young age, yet you also welcome it yourself. Your magic has known the touch of an unforgivable curse. You are convinced of your tie with another, yet don’t understand it fully. Shall I go on? I know many other facts.”

 

Harry rubbed his forehead, he hadn’t expected all that. “How do you know any of this?”

 

“I can see soulmagic.” Jake said, like it was the most simplest thing. Harry just stared, not understanding. “I can see all one has gone through with a glance, and feel a lot more through touches. Don’t mix it up with a seer, I cannot see the future. I only see the past of those around me.”

 

“No wonder you’re so out of it.” Harry muttered, but hesitated, “You won’t tell anybody… Right?”

 

“I won’t repeat what I just said to anybody but you.” The boy nodded, “Or other little facts you might not want. I might tell others you like sweets with the holidays close.” Harry sort of doubted that anybody would get him sweets, but didn’t comment on that.

 

“Could you also not call me Harry in front of others?”

 

“Alright.”

 

It was unexpected, and Harry wasn’t exactly pleased, but… He was suddenly not alone. “Do you by any chance know who attacked Frederick?”

 

“No, I can only see what your soul has gone through. Frederick is not in there any longer, so I do not know that information. I’m sorry, I know how you long for the answer.”

 

“It’s alright, thanks anyway. Why are you telling me all this?” He would have assumed that the other would keep it secret.

 

“We’re friends, and you wanted to know. Consider it an early Christmas gift if you wish.”

 

Harry smiled, “Thanks Jake.” He was actually rather surprised the other had stayed so coherent during the conversation. It was impressive, and something Harry was grateful for. “I um… Still don’t know what to give you for Christmas though.” Harry said, suddenly wanting to change the topic for the time being. Jake shrugged, seeming fine with this. Harry hoped he’d find something for both Jake and Myrtle in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short length, the next chapter will be about the same amount as well. Hope you all enjoy!


	3. Happy Holidays

Of course, both of them had gone for the holidays, as had most the castle. Harry spent some more time than usual in the solitude of the common room of Ravenclaw, but after loneliness got the best of him, he went out. There still weren’t very many students, and nobody who would help appease the loneliness. He hadn’t exactly made a lot of friends. He wondered where he should go, the library would be deserted as well, and he had been losing hope about getting the answers there about how to get back.

 

He had been able to talk a bit more with Jake, mostly just reminiscing, and Jake actually spoke like he had been there with Harry during everything. It was a bit unsettling, but also nice in a way. Even things his friends didn’t understand, Jake did and sympathized well, not surprising since apparently he could see and feel everything Harry had gone through. Part of him wondered why Jake would subject himself to hanging around him, but didn’t verbally question it.

 

Currently Harry was wondering aimlessly, trying to think of something to occupy him. His thoughts turned to Christmas, seeing as it was only a few days away now. He hadn’t gotten anything for his friends, which made him feel bad. He really hoped that they hadn’t gotten him anything too spectacular. Again, he hoped that he didn’t get anything from Frederick’s parents either.

 

Really though, just being able to hang out with Myrtle and Jake was enough to cheer him up, and as cheesy as it sounded, it was enough that he had such good friends in such a misplaced time. In the hallway instead of the library, he actually did see Tom heading his way instead of the other cornering Harry. Of course he would run into the only person he didn’t want to see while thinking of Christmas. He wasn’t surprised Tom stayed either. Still, Harry knew that Tom was walking towards him specifically after catching sight of him.

 

He was feeling a bit better after talking with Jake, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk with Tom any more than he already had. Yet at the same time he was unwilling to turn his back towards the other. So he frowned as he stopped and waited for Tom to reach him. When Tom pulled out his wand, red alarms went off in Harry’s mind, before he casted what Harry recognized to be some privacy spells, including a silencing charm before he dropped the wand back to his side, but didn’t pocket it. “You and me are going to talk.” The other made it obvious it was a demand. At least this was a hallway not usually traversed. That didn’t mean Harry was thrilled about this little encounter.

 

“I’d rather not.” Harry said, but with the others wand still drawn, he was most certainly not turning his back on Tom.

 

“I doubt that will change. However, you say that like you have a choice.” Harry was tempted just to duel the other, but knew that was stupidity at it’s finest. Of course he was still sorely tempted, consequences and superb patience thus far be damned. “I know you’re not Frederick Anderson, I knew as soon as I saw you after you were discharged from the medical ward.”

 

“And how the fuck do you think that’s right? Who else could I be? I’m me.”

 

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Tom hissed, seeming displeased once more. Fine, let him be. Harry didn’t care if the other thought it a slight against him. Harry just glared. “You are nothing like him. He was pathetic and hardly worth the time to interact with him.”

 

“Who are you to judge that?” He snapped, sick of people thinking that the kid was nothing. Worse, coming from Tom, a personal enemy of Harry’s.

 

“I’m not the only one who thought so. He wouldn’t raise a hand in his defense, meek, and would probably rather cower then even think to step up. Not to mention stupid and nothing remarkable about him at all. Plain in every way.”

 

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Harry really wanted to at least punch the other. If he said another word, perhaps he would. His hand was curled into a fist already, and shaking with the urge to either do so or grab his wand.

 

“You are very different. You know the material in class, and you’ve actually succeeded in fighting off all those who oppose you. Something Frederick would never do before. He would never talk back to anybody calling him weak, he accepted it fully, knowing it was what he was. Everything about you is different. Your stance, your demeanor, attitude, I could go on.”

 

“You shouldn’t.” Not unless the other would like to learn some sixth year spells the hard way. The spell he used on Draco just last school year came to mind, but he tried to push it aside, trying not to think about the fact he considered it.

 

“Not that it matters, I could care less about who you used to be.”

 

“Then why all this? You seem to care a lot about this. You’ve been hounding me for this answer for a long while now. Why do you care so much!”

 

“You misunderstand. I don’t care much about Frederick Anderson, I never did. I only care about who you are now.”

 

Of course the other was pursuing this. Tom was obsessive, if anything. “And I keep telling you, I’m the same person!”

 

“That’s not what I recall Jake saying.”

 

Harry could feel the blood pool out of his face, leaving him a bit lightheaded, feeling horror at the statement. Tom looked rather pleased to have rendered him speechless, but Harry didn’t care about that. Had Jake really betrayed him? No, he didn’t want to believe that, yet he worried it was true. “He… He told you something?” Then he shook his head, no Jake surely wouldn’t. Not willingly. “If you hurt him at all-”

 

“Not at all, he remains unharmed. As amusing as it is to doubt his loyalty, he hardly breathed a word to me. I simply overheard a single conversation between you two.”

 

When? They had held a few incriminating conversations, when Harry thought about it. Which one had Tom heard? Harry felt a bit sick, and hoped the other hadn’t heard the name Voldemort, hoped that it wasn’t something he hadn’t already come up with. “What did you hear?”

 

“Enough.” Tom seemed rather pleased again, and why shouldn’t he? He had the upperhand in this conversation. The conniving little viper. “So, I have decided that I want some answers.”

 

“I’m not telling you shit.”

 

“Indeed?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow, as if doubting Harry’s conviction. He kept his mouth shut, glaring to show he wouldn’t breathe a word. “I don’t understand your hostility towards me. I was actually going to offer up an exchange. I know you wouldn’t want nothing in return.”

 

“You have nothing I want.”

 

“Are you sure of that? Not even perhaps the names of Frederick’s attackers?”

 

Harry grit his teeth.  _ “Don’t. Don’t let him get you. Just walk away.” _  Yet he had not gotten a lead anywhere about who they might have been. He wanted to at least know why they thought tormenting a child in such a way was a good idea. Still, he knew Tom had him. He had been looking for months, desire to punish those who had ended the life of a fourth year in such a horrific way. Tom probably knew that he had him right where he wanted. Master manipulator he was. “You know who did it?”

 

“Of course. You’ll find I know all sorts of little facts.”

 

“From eavesdropping probably.” Harry curled his lip in distaste.

 

Tom didn’t even look ashamed, but he didn’t confirm or deny it, just moving on, “So, for your convenience, I’m willing to offer a deal. You have to truthfully and fully answer my questions, and in return I’ll truthfully give you names.”

 

That didn’t seem too bad at face value, but Harry wasn’t a complete idiot. Knowledge was power. “How many questions?”

 

“Six.”

 

“That’s too many.” Harry shook his head. He knew better, Tom would probably word the questions right so that he got multiple answers for each question in order for it to be fully answered.

 

“I find if a fair price. Including the one who orchestrated and spearheaded the attack, that’s one person for every question.”

 

“Six?” Harry asked, and Tom only gave a nod to confirm this. Harry rubbed his forehead, perhaps out of habit. Six people. He felt sorrow at that. Could he really be vengeful towards six people? He caught the sight of the scar on the inside of his wrist. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his hand and looked at Tom. “Deal.” Yes, yes he could.

 

“Wonderful. For both our sakes, I will draw up a binding contract. Nothing too serious, just to make sure we are both truthful, I’m sure you understand.”

 

Harry felt like he was selling his soul to the devil himself. “Of course.” He muttered, feeling a bit hollow. Tom only smiled pleasantly across his deceivingly handsome face.  _ “As clever as the devil, but twice as pretty.” _  Harry thought to himself, sure he had heard that before, and found it fitting when applied to the person before him.

 

“Expect it sometime after Christmas, before the term starts again. I’ll have you look over it, to make sure it’s fair, of course.” Oh he was going to look over any contract before he signed it when it came from Tom himself. Still, he made no comment as Tom dismantled the privacy charms. “Happy Holidays.” The other said, much too cheerily, and the urge to punch him was back.

 

Only after the other pocketed his wand and Harry watched him leave did Harry himself decide to go back to the dorms. His desire to see people was at an all time low and he wanted to be alone with his thoughts to think over the deal he’d just made. He wondered what Tom was truly after, surely not a bunch of answers from a seeming fourth year. It was a lot of work to put into it, Harry knew that. Apparently Tom had already put work into doing this, having gathered the names. He had probably planned to bring this proposal up to Harry for a time now, and waited until they were relatively alone at Hogwarts during the holidays to pounce. It seemed so well planned, and it pissed Harry off all the more.

 

Well, at least he was getting something out of it. He would have thought Tom to daggle the information before him and make him bend over backwards for it. So far it didn’t seem like that bad of a deal. He wasn’t fooled, with such an apparently fair deal, Tom must be getting something extra from it. Harry just wasn’t sure exactly what. Not yet anyway.

 

When Christmas day did come, Harry woke to find a couple gifts at the edge of his bed. It was easy counting them, seeing as there was only two. Reading that they were from Jake and Myrtle made him relax immensely. It seemed Frederick didn’t have parents, or at least not any good ones. Harry would have to talk to his head of house to maybe ask the headmaster about where he lived before going home for the summer. Seeing as he’d probably be stuck here for awhile longer. Grabbing the closest one, he felt a bit guilty he hadn’t really done anything for them, but mentally noted to save money from next year to buy them something if he was still here for the next Christmas.

 

Opening the package from Myrtle, he smiled at the set of sugar quills sitting on top, one of his favorite candies. He was actually impressed she’d picked up on that, seeing that he hadn’t been able to get any this school year, even with the occasional trips to Hogsmeade. She had also gotten him a defense book. One that was no doubt common with her little funds, but one Harry hadn’t seen in his time period. He decided it might be interesting to look through it. Deciding to send her a note to say thanks at the very least, Harry picked up Jake’s gift.

 

It was quite obviously going to be a book, just from the shape and weight of it. Still, it seemed rather thick. Opening the wrapping, he saw it was two books. The first one was a book on latin, something Harry had learned minimal about. The next book was still very thick, and heavy. It was worn down, obviously old and probably valuable. The title was in latin. Ah. Well… That was nice that he’d been given a book on latin then. Yet he knew it would be a pain and take a long time to translate anything, let alone a book this size. Putting them in his trunk, he saw a note fall out. Blinking, Harry picked it up, recognizing Jake’s handwriting.

 

_ “You were close. This book should help.” _ Excitement filled him, of course! Jake knew his predicament, and he bet that the other had sent this to help him get back. He was more willing to translate it now, if it would help him. The sooner the better. In fact, he determined to start while everybody was still away on holidays. After the holidays were over, he would go to the Room of Requirement to start translating it. He wasn’t keen on the idea of others seeing what it was. It felt like something he had to keep a secret.

 

* * *

 

In a very different part of the castle, Tom was sitting in the empty dorm room, any who stayed still opening their presents in their room. He had not gotten any presents of course, but when had he ever? It hardly concerned him anymore, he hardly even thought of it. Instead his mind was on the interesting dilemma that was Frederick Anderson, or whoever was in his body. Tom had never heard of anything that allowed another wizard or witch to possess another so fully. If Tom believed the conversation he’d overheard, the boy - Harry apparently - had only possessed the body after Frederick died. An interesting concept. One he wished to learn more about.

 

With Harry’s obvious hostility, it seemed that would be difficult. He knew he had to make the contract terms he was going to mail to Gringotts look very fair. Still, he was sure he would get more out of this then Harry himself was. Smirking to himself, he remembered the conversation he’d had after he cornered Jake. It had been irritating in many aspects, but enlightening.

 

* * *

 

Tom looked over the boy who stood in front of him, who was seeming to stare through Tom to the other side, like he wasn’t there at all. It was annoying to say the least, to be apparently ignored despite standing right there. Tom had bigger concerns currently, one to do with the conversation he’d overheard. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach the boy, since Jake would know all Tom was capable of, charm seemed out of the question, yet he sort of doubted he’d get very far if he started with a threat.

 

Giving a light, airy sigh, the boy actually spoke first. “I won’t tell you anything against Harry’s wishes. Despite how you want him.” Tom felt a bit of annoyance at that, but also satisfied to hear the person’s name who was in Frederick’s body directly, not just with eavesdropping. “I can tell you he likes sweets.”

 

Tom hardly saw the significance in that. “How did he come to be in Frederick’s body?” Because that was what Tom really wanted to know.

 

“He doesn’t really know.” Jake stated simply, and Tom inferred that since Harry didn’t know, Jake didn’t either. Wasn’t that how it worked? That Jake only knew the past? Tom made a mental note to pick up a book on soul magics. A dark topic and hard to come by from what he gathered, but he needed to know how Jake’s ability worked.

 

He wasn’t about to leave without answers though, and considered hurting Jake to get them. If he wouldn’t betray Harry willingly, he didn’t see many alternatives. Jake gave a heavier sigh, “I won’t answer.” Tom frowned, wondering if the other could see his thoughts as well. “I know you’re more interested in Harry then me anyway.” Tom glowered, wondering what the other knew. Tom wasn’t an idiot, on the contrary he was above everybody. He felt drawn to Harry in ways he’d never felt before, and it maddened him. Especially since he was in the body of that pathetic student. It had cemented the fact Harry wasn’t Frederick, even before he had a name or some proof. Still, he was much too drawn to somebody he had yet to have a full length conversation with. The other just seemed so fascinating somehow.

 

Jake might know something about that as well. Wasn’t the other just full of information? That was rather dangerous. Tom wondered if he could obliviate the other of anything Tom had done or planned. Then again, what was the point? The other apparently only had to look at him to see everything. It was rather a pointless endeavour. Jake smiled, a lost sort of look on his features. “I can sense magic. I knew you were there listening.” It took Tom only a moment to realize that the other meant in the library when Tom had eavesdropped. It was unexpected. He wasn’t used to people knowing when he was doing so. What was most unexplained was why Jake would say everything he had. Wasn’t he loyal to Harry? “I’ve handed you a wonderful opportunity. Don’t see it wasted.”

 

Jake then turned and walked away, seeming unconcerned with Tom still standing there. Jake might be useful to him still then. If he had imparted some information to Tom purposely. He just needed to make sure Harry didn’t find out that Jake had done so. It would benefit him if Harry was unaware and stupidly loyal. He might spill more things while Tom just happened to be around.

 

* * *

 

Yes, things seemed to be going in his favor, though he had many side projects suddenly. To research Jake’s ability to find out just how much he knew, and to draw up a binding contract between him and Harry. He already had some questions he wanted to ask. He’d just have to make sure to ask them somewhere more private than the library. He would make sure Harry couldn’t lie either. Tom already had the main idea thought up and most of the wording written other than a few key touches, but he was already pleased with how it was coming out.

 

Smirking to himself, he knew he’d get answers, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the short chapter. It should pick up in wording after this.
> 
> Happy Halloween! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Feels weird writing about Christmas on Halloween.


	4. Dark Truths

A few days passed before he was cornered by Tom again, this time in the great hall, and as much as he was dreading it, he willingly went when Tom all but demanded that Harry follow him. He didn’t like the fact they went into the dungeon area of the castle, but they didn’t go towards the Slytherin dorm at least. It was cold down here, and Tom only stopped after they both were in an empty, very unused, and old classroom. Most the desks were shoved up against one wall. Tom moved to what had clearly been the teacher’s desk near the front.

 

Harry didn’t say much on the way down, nor was he pleased with being in such a deserted place with Tom, but he knew the need for the secrecy. Tom then pulled out a parchment from his robes, and Harry reluctantly got closer, knowing he’d have to read over it. Tom placed it on top of the desk and Harry picked up the parchment, practically feeling it humming with magic. It was definitely a magical contract then, any doubt gone. He read over it. It was well worded, no doubt Tom had written it up. Yet it wasn’t bogged down.

 

“What’s the consequences?” He saw none, and that made him suspicious.

 

“I thought we could forgo that. If you’ll notice, it does state we’ll be unable to lie to each other while answering each other.” Yes, apparently all Tom would have to say was that it was for the contract, and it would count as one of the questions. Harry would have to answer everything to the fullest extent he could and of course, he couldn’t lie. It seemed almost like it would be a compulsion or like veritaserum. He would want to answer the question. Harry wasn’t sure he liked that. In return, he got the truthful names of those who were involved in the near fatal attack of Frederick. As agreed, six questions, for six names.

 

Harry reread it a few times, still feeling dread at the whole thing. Finally he held out his hand, looking towards Tom expectedly. Tom seemed to know what he was looking for. “It’s not signed normally, but with a drop of blood. Once we both do so it’ll disappear and a copy with be sent to each of us. So we don’t have access to each other’s blood.” That was actually a good foresight. Harry didn’t really feel like writing his legal name, and he knew it probably would require Harry James Potter to be acceptable as a binding contract. At least Tom wouldn’t know his name and wouldn’t get his blood.

 

Tom pulled out a small knife, hardly anything to be threatened over, but Harry did wonder if the other carried it on him normally. He doubted it, Tom usually found himself above muggle things, including their fighting style. Harry grabbed it and pricked his finger slightly, pressing his thumb to the paper before cleaning off the knife and healing his finger. He did not want Tom getting any of his blood. Harry suddenly wondered if his blood was different. His magic was his own, yet blood was the body. He hoped this would work. Tom repeated the process, and as soon as his blood was on the parchment as well, it did indeed glow and Harry felt something settle in him before it disappeared from the desk.

 

“I’m sure we’ll get a copy before the day’s over.” Tom said, standing and pocketing the knife before healing his own finger. “Now, I’ll ask the first question to start off this contract.” Harry wasn’t at all surprised by that, the other was rather impatient at times. Tom considered Harry, probably wondering what question to ask first, or maybe how to word it. Harry really hoped he didn’t regret this decision. It was a little too late for that now. “What was the first unforgivable you casted on somebody?”

 

Harry felt anger at that question. He knew now what conversation Tom had overheard. The first one with Jake. It was the only time that had been mentioned. How dare Tom ask him that? At the same time, he felt he should have known. That was already a hard question for him to think about, he suddenly got the feeling they would not get easier. The contract seemed to give him a moment to think on how to answer, but there was little getting out of it. He only felt a slight nudging as he hesitated, but he bet it would get worse if he stalled too long. As he stated speaking, it dissipated. “The cruciatus curse.” Harry wasn’t surprised by the impressed look Tom adopted, and it made him sick, yet he could tell that didn’t satisfy it, and continued. He didn’t like the prodding feeling, “It apparently wasn’t too strong, but she did scream.” And he got some sick satisfaction from that.

 

“Who was she?”

 

“Bellatrix Lestrange, a death eater who killed my Godfather.” When he didn’t feel a probing, he assumed that it satisfied that answer. He was glad he didn’t have to go into death eaters, or Sirius.

 

Tom seemed to be thinking, probably on the next question. “Who is Bellatrix Lestrange?”

 

“I don’t know her family linage well, she was cousin to my godfather, Sirius Black. I think she was also sisters to Narcissa Black.” He paused, but didn’t feel a probing. He supposed since he’d already said she was a death eater in the last question, he wouldn’t have to repeat it. So he didn’t have to repeat information, good. Three questions down, he could do this.

 

Tom was examining him carefully, as if trying to piece something together. “When did you cast the cruciatus?”

 

“During my fifth year, I was fifteen.” Harry sighed, already knowing he would have to answer the other part of the question. “It was near the end of the school year in 1996.”

 

The grin that flashed on Tom’s face was enough to make Harry want to hit him again. He glared harshly at the other. The other was probably more than pleased at the information. Just two more answers, and there was no way Tom could get all the answers with so few questions left.

 

“What are death eaters?”

 

Out of all the questions, Harry supposed that wasn’t the worse one. “They’re people who are fanatically devoted and have pledged loyalty to the dark lord, Voldemort.”

 

Tom seemed to jolt at that, and Harry knew that the other had already toyed with the name then. He had certainly recognized it, and was frowning. He shook his head as if to clear it, shrugging a shoulder and seemed to recover very quickly. Probably had already thought of being on the road to a dark lord. “What did I do to you?”

 

Harry let out a bitter laugh, not surprised that the other had picked up on his hatred, it had grown at the reminder. “What haven’t you done? You’ve killed people I loved, including my parents, my godfather, a good school friend, not to mention your death eaters pulling shit. Oh and the fact you’ve tried to kill me almost every school year, plus when I was one year old. Put me under the cruciatus yourself, not to mention visions that are more like splitting my head in half in pain and can be manipulated! You indirectly killed Dumbledore, effectively started two wars, and you’re the reason I’m stuck in this time! If you had just left me alone none of this would have ever happened. I hate you.” Harry hissed out. Tom stared at him blankly, seeming not to have expected all that.

 

“Why?” Harry thought at first the other was asking why Harry hated him, and despite knowing that the last question was already asked, he opened his mouth to give the other a piece of his mind. “What reason would I have to do all that?”

 

Harry knew he didn’t have to answer fully, and he had no plans to. “Because apparently you thought a one year old was a threat to your precious power.” Tom’s eyes darkened, clearly not liking the accusation. Harry was done though, “Fuck this, give me names.”

 

Tom took a deep breath, seeming to try and center himself. He pinned Harry with a glare and spoke coldly, “Actually. One name.”

 

“No, that wasn’t the agreement.” Harry snapped, “I answered six.”

 

“Yes. You’ll find on your own accord. I stated before I asked, I would be asking the _  first _  question. Not all of them.”

 

Harry didn’t think he could get more angry, he was nearly blind with it. It was no surprise that he pulled out his wand and tried to hex Tom. Nothing too bad, but he might have sent a cutting hex in his direction, and hoping it hit. Tom was quick to dodge it though, and pulled his own wand, anger dancing in his own face at being attacked. Harry hardly cared. He wanted to hurt Tom. So he sent spell after spell, and Tom didn’t take long to retaliate. It was a full blown duel before long, the room being destroyed easily at their spells.

 

Tom definitely knew more than any fourth year, but Harry had practical experience in duels, and that was where Tom clearly lacked. It was still hard, Harry feeling like he was fighting for his life and only hoping the other felt some semblance of it as well. Finally disarming Tom, he figured that would be the end of it. His shock came when Tom wordlessly summoned Harry’s own wand. They both pointed each others wand at each other, a natural pause coming to them. Harry was shocked at the display of wandless magic, and Tom seemed to be subtly examining Harry’s wand.

 

One of them had to back down or this could go on for hours. Tom was the first to relent, standing fully instead of in a dueling position. “I have done nothing to you.” Tom hissed. “And I would appreciate my wand back.”

 

Harry didn’t argue, but he still felt anger at the other. Tom might not have done anything yet, but he would. Plus, he had been a right asshole, tricking Harry so spectacularly. No wonder he hadn’t felt any prodding to answer more. He should have noticed. Harry didn’t really feel like getting anywhere close to the other, but he did want his own wand back. After a time, Harry approached Tom and they did trade wands. As soon as he had his own holly wand back, he distanced himself from Tom, almost expecting their fight to continue. Tom just glared at him, clearly thinking something along the same lines. “Jason Herc.” Tom said suddenly, and it took Harry a moment to realize that was probably the first name he was being given.

 

Right, he might as well get something from all this. It seemed like so little, but that was his own fault for revealing more than he needed to. Harry nodded stiffly, yet neither of them moved towards the entrance. Probably too paranoid that the other would attack while they turned their back. Harry wouldn’t put it past himself at this point, he certainly wasn’t going to with Tom. “I don’t believe you.” Tom said suddenly, and Harry wasn’t really sure what he was talking about, but gave a glare either way. “I wouldn’t attack a one year old.”

 

“Well you do.” Harry snapped, angry that Tom would doubt his own actions. He had accepted being a dark lord easily, surely he knew what he was capable of then?

 

“No.” Tom stated, as if denying it would change anything.

 

“Get over it. I had to live with your actions. The least you can do is own up to them.” Tom shook his head, still in a mood to refuse it seemed. Like that would change anything.

 

“No. Everything else, I can comprehend happening, it’s all rather possible. Attacking an infant however… I know myself. I know my motives, my goals, what my actions would most likely be. I do not see why I would ever attack a one year old. Even if you were a threat, I could very well wait.”

 

“Well considering you lose your fucking mind, it’s not really shocking that apparently the only moral you have disappears.” Harry could tell the other was truly trying to deny it. Not to save face, he’d just admitted he could see himself doing everything else. Killing people, being a dark lord, casting unforgivables. He wished he could be surprised. It was obvious Voldemort’s sanity had been shaky at best, and Harry would bet all his money back in his time that it was because of the horcruxes.

 

Tom curled his lip at Harry, and seemed to shift. Harry tracked the movement, not sure if the other wished to leave suddenly or attack. Neither happened. “What use are morals? Fine. Perhaps you’re right. Everybody has the capability to murder, I know I’m no exception. And I suppose anything is possible. What’s the difference of attacking a child after apparently everything else?” Though Tom seemed to say it with conviction, he seemed… Off. Yet anger was the most obvious thing Tom was feeling, making it hard to identify what the other emotion was.

 

It was a bit different, Tom suddenly doing a one-eighty in his denial. The other didn’t pocket his wand but he started towards the door, seeming not to care Harry might attack him again, at least not right then. Or perhaps he was confident in his ability to defend himself. Harry felt a sort of shift, he couldn’t explain it but it almost felt like he’d missed an opportunity. It suddenly occurred to Harry that it had been a good thing when Tom denied that he had tried to kill him. While it had angered Harry, it meant the other couldn’t imagine himself doing it, couldn’t comprehend it. Now, perhaps he could. All because Harry had insisted. He felt sick and he had to ask, “Would you have targeted a one year old before this conversation?”

 

Tom stopped at the door, looking back at Harry, a soft smile in place that seemed much too bitter, “I suppose we’ll never know now, will we?” The smile didn’t last and the other opened the door, not bothering with closing it behind him as he left into the dark dungeon hallways. Harry rubbed at his face. Perhaps time was set, no matter what he did? Or more like what he did would actually make future events happen. A sort of set thing, that he was supposed to go back in time and say all this so that Tom would target him and so forth. Rubbing his head, he felt like crying out and wished for the duel to take place again. At least then he didn’t have to think on all this.

 

No matter what he did, would he not change anything? He hadn’t planned to, but would he be unable to even if he wished? It was a discouraging thought, just how little control he had. After sulking quietly for a bit, he headed back to the Ravenclaw dorms, planning to try and take his mind off of what all had happened.

 

* * *

 

Tom felt anger, for multiple reasons. He hadn’t won the duel between them, which had been annoying, but that was not his main focus of wrath. Usually his thoughts were well organized, but they seemed very erratic now. Harry was apparently from the future, where Tom was a dark lord that had for some unknown reason targeted Harry. Not just once from the sound of it, but almost continuously. Not only that, but everything else he had done… It was hard to wrap his head around, and he still didn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. He could see becoming a dark lord, but his main goal was to try and change the wizarding world. The way it sounded, he was a cold blooded murderer and perhaps an extreme sadist. He didn’t want to think on it. He supposed Dumbledore should be pleased that he’d always had Tom pegged. Merlin, he hoped that Harry didn’t get the urge to share anything with the teachers, especially not Dumbledore out of all of them.

 

Yet the hatred was palpable in the other boy. True, Tom had recognized animosity but he hadn’t expected this. He wanted to hurt something or somebody, and badly. Too bad many were gone for the holidays. He felt an emotion in him he hadn’t felt in a while, since first year surely. It took him a moment to identify it as despair. He nearly scoffed at himself. What did he expect, truly? Harry was just the same as everybody else. Nobody liked him, and nobody ever would. He wasn’t exactly a friendly or nice person. He never would be, he accepted that.

 

Yet Harry had been different, he wasn’t charmed by Tom, and he had enjoyed that. Finding somebody who wasn’t a mindless sheep that fell for a pretty smile. Yet he also wasn’t at all afraid of him, which Tom usually found annoying if anything. He found he had respected the other for it though, not backing down. Then there was the natural draw Tom had for the other. Snapping the password to the Slytherin dorms, he stepped inside, ignoring the few students who were in the common room and made his way to his own room. The same question cropping up again,  _ “What exactly were you expecting?” _  Tom wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he shouldn’t have expected anything. He should have known better after all this time. Nobody liked him. Still, he had liked to think he wasn’t exactly completely evil. Yet everybody who got too close seemed to think so, including Harry, who knew everything about the future. If anybody had a right to think so, Tom supposed he had the right. Apparently this draw he felt was one sided, and he would bury it, ignore it and never think of it again. Because apparently him and Harry were vicious enemies.

 

Oh, he wasn’t going to leave Harry alone. The other had vital information, and they did have an ongoing deal. So he would see Harry again, that was for sure. Tom needed time to collect himself first. He hadn’t expected any of the information he had received tonight. Nor Harry’s violent reaction to being tricked. It had been a possibility of course, but he hadn’t expected such unmasked anger either. He also wanted to stick to his original plan and wait to see what Harry did with the first person Tom had given up.

 

Sitting in his own bed in his dorm, he glowered at nothing in particular. He shouldn’t have put any stalk into the other. His interest only seemed to go one way. Not something he was used to anymore after all these years. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he meditated for a bit, organizing his mind and storing any personal feelings he had on the subject and Harry somewhere they wouldn’t bother him as much.

 

Breathing steadily to calm himself as he worked, he tried not to think about the future and what Harry might know, at least not tonight. Tom was sick of thinking of the other and needed a break from such thoughts. Perhaps tomorrow, when he was calmer he would look more into Jake’s ability and all manners of soul magic he could possibly find. He needed something to do while waiting for Harry to act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, and the short length. After this chapter, it should pick up in word count again.
> 
> So there you go, another chapter. With some perspective from Tom's point of view. They're both rather emotional after that exchange.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the update!


	5. Recovered Opportunities

To say Harry woke up feeling rested after yesterday's events and 'talk' would have been a downright lie. He hardly slept, and what little he had gotten wasn't restful. At least there were only a few more days before everybody came back, and Harry could see Jake and Myrtle again. Though the absolute fact that he couldn't stop her death depressed him. He didn't want to think about Riddle, or their conversation. How much he'd revealed, being an absolute idiot. He pushed it aside and threw himself into translating the book, more determined than before to get out of this time period.

He spent the next few days mostly holed up in the dorms, leaving to get food from the kitchens after meals were over so to avoid Tom at any cost. He was still angry, at himself as well as the other. He hadn't forgotten the name Tom gave him either, but he had yet to decide what exactly to do with the male who was involved with Frederick's attack. One thing was for sure, he couldn't let it rest.

Harry didn't do much to celebrate New Years day, other than just looking forward to Jake and Myrtle being back tomorrow. There wasn't anyone he really wanted to celebrate it with. It was taking a bit to learn some latin, and he knew he'd be asking somebody - probably Jake - for help. Not like he could ask any of his housemates. They had left him alone after he proved himself intelligent and that he wouldn't lie down and take it, he wasn't about to take steps back into bullying. So that left either Jake or Myrtle. While Myrtle would no doubt help him learn it, Harry doubted she even knew any latin. Mostly it was purebloods, or those raised as such who were brought up with the language.

Jake though, that would probably be difficult to learn from him. The other was just so naturally spacey and wasn't in the habit of learning new things. Harry was really at a lost as to who to ask other then his friends though. He'd talk to Jake as soon as the other was rested and ask him if he was even up for teaching Harry. It would be very slow progress if Harry continued trying to learn on his own.

Even when everybody was back in the castle, Harry greeted Myrtle and thanked her for her gifts. With everything, he'd forgotten to write to her. She seemed happy about his appreciation, but they didn't talk for long, she was tired from the trip and Harry let her retire to her dorm early. He didn't see Jake that day, or for the next few days with school starting up quickly and the rush of homework that came with it.

Harry of course saw the other at the table at Hufflepuff during meals, but that was about it so far. It wouldn't be until tomorrow that Jake would join them in the library after classes. Of course with all the students back it made Harry realize that he had no idea who Jason Herc was, or even what house he was in. He'd have to find the other before anything else. Harry felt annoyed at that, but he could narrow it down to the fact he knew he didn't have classes with anybody with that name. That still left the majority of the school. He had his work cut out for him. He should have at least demanded that Tom tell him the house. He wasn't about to confront Tom about it either. Maybe it was cutting his nose off despite his face, but he didn't want to get into another encounter with Tom for more information. No, he'd do this himself.

Latin though, he could use some help with that. So the next day, he waited for Jake in the library. Of course the other didn't always show, so lost in his own thoughts. Myrtle showed up with a pile of homework, and they got a bit lost in their own work before Harry noticed some time had passed. Giving up on asking the other this time, he refocused on his homework while talking to Myrtle.

Once they were a good way through their homework, most of it done on Harry's end seeing as he hardly had any electives, they packed up. Of course since they were in the same house, they both went the same way, continuing to talk as they walked. Myrtle had really been more happy lately and it did Harry's heart good. As they walked, Harry looked up when he saw Jake wondering towards them, lost look in his eye - as was usual.

Myrtle huffed out when they saw him, "Jake, you could at least show up to the library if you have nothing else to do!" Myrtle always was a bit harsher when telling Jake to come out of his states. Then again, she was rather a blunt sort of person, and didn't seem to get others feelings. At least she was honest.

"Oh, hello Myrtle." Jake said, blinking his eyes as he seemed to focus on them a moment. "Ah, Frederick, can I talk to you?"

"Sure." Harry said, just relieved that Jake hadn't said his actual name in front of Myrtle again. "Go on Myrtle, I have to talk to Jake myself too."

"Fine, but I'm going to bed. I'm not going to be waiting up for you." She stated, and walked away. Harry had no doubt she meant it either, but he wasn't really too bothered by it. Jake walked passed Harry, going in a seemingly random way, as if going back to wondering, like he hadn't just asked Harry to talk. Knowing that Jake usually had meaning to what he did though, Harry followed after him, wondering if they could talk on the way. After a time, Harry recognized where they were going and decided against asking what Jake needed out in the hallway. Stopping in front of the Room of Requirements, he supposed whatever Jake wanted was something that wasn't to be heard by others.

The blond didn't move though, just staring at the wall, as if waiting. Harry got the hint after a moment and walked back and forth three times, thinking of someplace homey. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised the room looked just like another part of hogwarts when they entered, with a fireplace roaring and plenty of couches and overstuffed chairs. Jake sat down near one by the fire, giving a small sigh, probably at the warmth of it. Harry sat down on one of the loveseats that had a couple pillows. Taking off his bag, he placed it on the floor as Jake took a seat of his own.

When Jake didn't instantly start, just staring in a seemingly random direction, Harry started, "So… What did you wish to talk about?"

The boy's eyes didn't move but he did speak, "Harry, something you should know about souls. They sometimes make decisions before the mind can even comprehend the choice."

"Okay…" Harry said slowly, not sure what that was supposed to mean.

The other did look at him then, "You wanted to ask me about tutoring. I think you already know who would be perfect for that."

Harry curled his lips back, "No."

"The fact you know who I meant only proves that you have decided on who would be best."

"Okay, as in terms of academics, sure. I'm not going to say he's a moron in that regard. I can't ask Tom of all people to help me study!"

"Why?"

Harry felt a bit stumped by the question, he hadn't at all expected it. Not from Jake of all people. "You know what he's done."

"Yes. More than anybody. More than you. More than Dumbledore. I know his very soul." Harry closed his mouth at that, a bit shocked. It wasn't wrong, he couldn't argue with that. If it had been anybody else, Harry probably would have told them to shove it. As it was though… Jake had a point of knowing Tom better. "His soul is untainted, he has no horcruxes and he has not known murder."

"He still isn't exactly a saint." Harry growled. Tom was anything but.

"Harry." Jake just sounded tired, and Harry felt somehow like it was his fault. He felt bad for causing his friend apparent weariness, but not enough to take back his words. "I know. I know what you've gone through, not as well as yourself, but a close second. I also know him second best. He has potential for great evil, I've seen it, you've felt it. That isn't all he is though."

"Wait, are you suggesting… That I can change things? I… I didn't think it was possible. Or wise."

"The book will help with those answers. I can't give you everything. So far, I'm leading you very heavily already. I won't teach you Latin. I would do much for you, and in ways I am."

Harry sighed, rubbing his head and slouching. He suddenly felt tired himself. It was a given that Jake was right in some ways. Tom hadn't done anything yet, hadn't murdered anyone, and hadn't split his soul until only a small fragment remained. He hadn't done a thing to Harry, not yet. Perhaps… Perhaps there was a chance that he never would? Could he even change Tom Riddle?

"I never said that." Harry looked over at Jake, who gave a small smile. "It takes a lot to truly change a person this late in their life. Redirecting goals… That's a bit easier."

"So stop him from wanting to be a Dark Lord? I might have already shot myself in the foot with that one."

"Yes, you did tell him a lot, and it did set him more firmly." Harry sighed at the words, not at all surprised by them, but cursing himself all the same. "I wouldn't be having this conversation with you if I thought he was completely hopeless though."

"Nobody's completely hopeless." Harry muttered, though Tom was close to that. Huffing out, he sat up more. "I don't even know if he'll want to tutor me." Jake shrugged, not answering. Harry supposed he'd have to try though. He wasn't going to get any help from Jake around this subject. "I know you said that you only know what my soul's seen, but do you know what did happen to Voldemort when I fired the spell at him?"

"You're not ready to know that answer."

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that, perhaps he instead killed Voldemort? Like their spells somehow rebounded back towards each other? It wasn't Harry's fault if that happened. Plus, he wasn't really dead. He still had horcruxes after all. At least he'd bought his friends some time. After all, it had taken Voldemort years last time when he lost a body. Harry just hoped that he wasn't involved in any other rituals to resurrect the man once he was back.

With a lot to think of, and the conversation seemingly over, they both went their own way to their common rooms. Harry had to hurry to get up the tower before curfew, but thankfully made it. He decided to approach Tom later in the week, still give them time to cool off, and maybe figure out how he was supposed to convince Tom.

Days passed and Harry decided he couldn't really put it off much longer, so he went to try and find the other. The first day was unsuccessful, proving how hard it was to find a single student in a magical castle. The next day though, Harry found Tom in the library. Ironic really, that the other was in the same place Harry spent most his time. It wasn't really a surprising sight to see the handsome boy sitting in one of the far corners of the library, nose buried in a book with several more around him. He seemed peaceful, too bad Harry was going to interrupt that, the possibility of this ending in a duel again didn't go over his head.

Approaching the other, he didn't even have to clear his throat. As soon as he was ten feet away, Tom's head snapped up and stared at him, eyes slightly narrowed in clear suspicion and calculation. Harry sighed, deciding to get this over with. He stopped by the table. "Look, I'm not going to apologize… for most of what I said… Or the duel. But I wasn't in the right to say  _some_  of the things I did. It was out of line." Tom was still silent, regarding him. "Good, now that's out of the way." And relieved some of Harry's own guilt, not that he would ever admit to that, "I have a-" Harry paused, knowing favor would be the wrong word to use, Tom would call that in and demand too much, "request to ask you."

Tom closed his book, setting it down and leaned back in his chair to regard Harry, small smirk in place. He probably loved that Harry needed help from him, the absolute prick. "And what will I get out of this?"

"I just want some help with learning latin. It's not enough for me to sell my soul. Again." The other shrugged, seeming to disagree and waited patiently. "I don't know, what do you want?"

"More information, plus one other thing." Of fucking course Tom was going to ask for more than just information this time, "I want us to duel more."

Harry blinked, he hadn't expected that. "Why?" He wasn't exactly looking forward to that experience again.

"Nobody else here, bar maybe some seventh years and even then that's questionable, has been able to hold their own in a duel against me for more than a minute. I wish to practice and get better, you seem an opportunity for that."

Okay, that did actually make sense, Harry took a breath, but he didn't agree yet, "What information?"

"It will be similar to our last agreement. After each study session, I can ask a question."

"After every three." Harry gritted, he wasn't giving that much information away for a stupid language.

"No. I'm not drawing up a contract this time. Since I'm compromising, you can do the same." Some compromise. Harry glared. "Besides, you're a Ravenclaw. You'll pick it up quickly."

"I'm a gryffindor." Harry corrected, not seeing much harm in that.

Tom looked at him incredibly before actually letting out a small chuckle, seeming to find that amusing, "Fine, every other study session, since you apparently insist on needing a lot of tutoring."

Harry got the feeling that it was the best he was going to get, "And each study session has to last at least two hours." He wanted to make sure that he got enough out of this deal this time.

Tom nodded, "Very well. Sit, tell me your schedule. We'll discuss the days we can meet." It was unfortunate that when the schedule was drawn up they would be spending four days of the week with each other. One even on the weekend. It would cut into Harry's time with his friends now, but he supposed it was the price of going home. The study days were on Tuesday, Wednesday, and of course Saturday. Friday they would be dueling. Tom had a busy schedule, he was taking a lot of electives, so the times varied. Most were in the evening, except on Friday when Tom had astronomy, they would meet earlier, right after lunch. Saturday was open, but Tom insisted on meeting in either the morning or early afternoon. Thankfully Harry talked him into early afternoon.

After that, they went their separate ways. For the time being, they were meeting up tomorrow seeing as it was Saturday for the first study session. Harry decided to bring the latin book Jake gave him, parchment and quills. He refused to let Tom look at the older book he'd gotten though. He would be fine once he learned latin. So the next day, right after lunch Harry headed for the library, and of course Tom was somehow already there at the same table that Harry saw him at yesterday.

Harry took his seat across from Tom, who already had a couple books, clearly on Latin. Tom had the audacity to sit beside Harry, but he wasn't about to play musical chairs with the other and so stayed put. Tom was actually a decent teacher. Even Harry could admit that, he knew it was hard to teach languages, especially one that was considered dead in the muggle world. Harry had to wonder who had taught Tom, but bet like most things, the other had self studied. The other seemed endlessly patient, and didn't criticize Harry for asking questions, like he would have thought Tom would do. Harry felt himself slowly relaxing, feeling like he wouldn't be belittled during the lesson helped a lot, not to mention how well Tom explained things. If Harry didn't get what the other was saying, he would revisit it and explain a different way until Harry did understand.

It was admittedly nice, not to mention impressive. He didn't even realize how much time had passed until Tom cast a tempus that told them both three and a half hours passed. Tom leaned back, seeming pleased, "I think you'll pick this up rather well."

Harry was surprised by the subtle praise, but he supposed he shouldn't be. "Yeah well… You would have made a good teacher, I think."

"I have considered it at length, yes." Tom nodded, seeming to enjoy the praise. Of course he did though.

It occurred to Harry he might be able to bait the other into asking less harmful questions, so he said, "You almost got the job too."

Interest did seem to show on Tom's face and he asked, "Almost?"

"Would you like to know?"

Considering him for a moment, Tom shook his head, "No, I have another question for you today." Of course. Harry could have sighed. It was no surprised Tom didn't take the bait. "Why would you like to learn latin? Is it to help create a spell to get back at the attackers?"

"No, I had heard that latin was used for spell casting though."

Tom nodded, and apparently still in teacher mode explained, "Of course. Latin is used in a lot of spellcrafting. Of course only for those who languages derived from Latin use if for certain spellcasting. Those languages that were derived from other languages, like Chinese or the like have a whole array of different spells and counterspells. Of course, they can still use our spells fine if they learn the incantation and wand movement."

Harry had never known that before. It was actually really interesting, "Wait." A sudden thought came to him from that. Perhaps because Tom had just mentioned getting his revenge, but a problem he'd come across was that there was a counterspell for most things, and when one usually found the right one the spell would be over. It made it hard to find a lasting punishment for the attacker. "Are you saying if I casted a spell in a different language, they'd have to use the counterspell in that language as well?"

"Assuming it was made by another culture or language, then yes, the counterspell would logically also be in that same language. There are a few that do cross over, but yes, if a spell is said with a different language base, then they would need the counterspell from that language."

"Even parselmouth?" Harry questioned, excited. He wanted this spell to last with no way of removing it.

He expected Tom to narrow his eyes and say he wasn't going to help. He most certainly wasn't expecting the next words from Tom to be, "Sorry, what?"

Honestly, it took a moment for Harry to comprehend that Tom didn't know what parselmouth was. Or more likely, what it was called. Had nobody told him? "You… You don't know?" Tom's eyes darkened, probably not liking the fact he didn't know something pointed out to him. "You know it though."

At this Tom crossed his arms, expression darkening further, "Anything I do in the future I still have yet to do or learn."

"No, you don't understand." And really, the other didn't. It was baffling to Harry, "You're born with the ability. The one to talk to snakes."

At this his expression cleared slightly, but not completely, like he wasn't sure if Harry was lying. But there was curiosity there, "It has a name?"

"Yeah, it's a really rare ability. Considered dark by most wizards." Harry decided not to mention that it was because Tom was the heir of Slytherin. That was another can of worms he didn't want to open right then. He could have sworn Tom had researched the ability before fourth year. Since he had spent years searching for the chamber of secrets. Which was due to open next year. So time wise, it didn't make much sense. Harry didn't dare asking either.

"I'll have to look into this." Tom muttered. Great, so he was going to find out about being the heir, about his heritage and the chamber. Harry wished he kept his mouth closed, but he supposed it was only a matter of time before Tom found out. "How do you know about the ability?"

"Nope, you only get one question. I've answered two technically."

"One, actually. You still haven't told me why you wish to learn Latin."

"To translate a book I got for Christmas." Harry said, keeping it as vague as possible, "I don't know it's contents obviously, so I wanted to learn to translate it."

"That will take some more time then you realize. Learning a language is all well and good, but translating takes just as much time if not more."

Harry sighed at the information, but nodded. He was determined to do it, regardless of the effort. "Well thanks for the lesson anyway. And for the information on spell building and casting. It was helpful."

"Yes. I'm sure your own information will also prove valuable." Harry tried not to think of the consequences of his words. Tom stood, starting to put the books away as Harry packed up his own stuff. Feeling a bit awkward, Harry did nod his head in a sort of goodbye before he left.

Well… That could have gone worse. Now he had an idea for what to do to Jason Merc. The idea wasn't really original, he got some ideas from the twins over the years, and now from Tom. It was sure to be a good punishment though, Harry was sure of it. Especially if the other couldn't dispel it. Harry hadn't thought of using parselmouth for awhile, but he would do it for this.

* * *

It wasn't hard to write out a note to Jason Merc. Harry even got up early on Monday to attach it to a school owl so that it would be delivered at the morning table. He just hoped the spell worked. He was sure to speak the spell in parselmouth, but he wasn't sure if the spell would work since it was technically a different language - even though it sounded like english to Harry. There was a chance it wouldn't, but he could only wait and see. He just hoped the spell wasn't detectable.

It was a simple note, folded in half with a slight sticking spell, the boy's name on the front and two words inside.  _I know._  Not the most original, but that was what the spell was for. It would give the other horrendous nightmares, nonstop until the spell was cancelled. Eventually it would slip into his reality as well. Harry was planning on confronting the other before that part happened. He knew what it was like to go through terrifying nightmares. Considering that Frederick had been living a nightmare his entire school year, Harry wasn't very sympathetic though. Honestly, he hoped even dreamless drought potions didn't work. Probably not, a more mild version was the Weasley's invention, and if anything they were thorough.

Harry still didn't know who it was, so he couldn't watch him as the note was opened. He wondered if the male would brush it off, perhaps even scoff at it. Maybe he wouldn't even understand the correlation between his actions and the note. There was no way to know, so Harry went to classes and pushed it out of his mind for the time being to concentrate on studying. At least it was Monday, so he could hang out with Myrtle and perhaps Jake for a bit instead of studying with Tom.

The next day he did study with Tom, and the other didn't try to ask any questions after the two and a half hours went by. Harry stayed in the library a bit longer to get some of his own homework done before returning to his dorm.

The next day, he knew a question was coming at the end of the lesson, just not what it would be. Harry found Tom at the same place, and sat down at the table, pulling out what he knew from the last two sessions he would need. He still made it a point to sit across from Tom, who did move closer. Harry had learned it was to help tutor, but that didn't mean he exactly liked it.

The lesson plan went on much as the last two had, and while he knew he was still at the beginning stages of learning Latin, he was feeling like he was making progress, slow as it was. Some hours passed before a natural pause came and Tom closed the book, regarding Harry. He waited to hear the question.

"Why your interest in parselmouth?"

"I know a lot of things about you, that included." Harry said, figuring it was the safest answer. He didn't want the other to learn that he knew parselmouth for some reason.

The other didn't seem satisfied with this answer though. "Why did you ask last time then? What are you planning?"

"You'll have to wait and see." Harry said simply, knowing that the other male would assume it had something to do with Tom's own ability to speak it. Harry didn't think the other would leap to the conclusion that Harry could speak it. Not without proof anyway. He also knew he couldn't hide what he was doing to Jason from Tom. No, that was unlikely, Tom was probably watching Jason closely for any reactions.

"Ah, something to do with Jason?"

"Like I said, wait and see." He doubted Tom would interfere, but he also wasn't fond of the idea of saying his plans either.

"You can speak parselmouth?" Tom demanded. Harry rose an eyebrow, he was very sure Tom wouldn't know that, wouldn't conclude that without any proof. Yet the other seemed very sure. How could he know? Thinking back, he was sure he hadn't revealed that. Tom spoke then, as if guessing what Harry was thinking, "The last two things I said were in parselmouth."

"Oh." Harry hated being tricked so easily, but he felt more shame at not realizing it himself. "It sounded like english to me."

"I assure you, it was not. I read that the only line known for such an ability is those descended from Salazar Slytherin himself." So Tom already knew his ancestry. Or at the very least was getting close to figuring it out. "Are we related?"

"No, not that I know of. We have very different families. But we're both half-bloods." Thank goodness he wasn't related to Tom, that would be horrible.

"Interesting." Tom muttered, seeming to think on this. Harry wasn't about to go into his connection with Voldemort either, and doubted the other would come to that conclusion on his own either. While he had figured out the parselmouth easily, this one was a bit more far fetched and Tom didn't have all the information. Harry didn't mind saying they were both half-bloods, Tom probably already knew that about himself, being descended from one of the founders. "So there are other lines that have the ability." Though at this he sounded disappointed.

"You're Salazar's heir. Though I don't know why I'm telling you, you've already got an over-inflated ego." Tom flashed Harry a charming smile, seemed undeterred by his words.

"What line are you from?" Tom asked curiously, but paused a moment before speaking again, "Unless you find talking about your parents with me difficult."

Harry didn't like talking about his parents in his time period with other students. Though he knew that was mainly because most were insensitive and asked very invasive questions. This was a bit different, Tom just wanted to know how he had the ability. Harry knew he couldn't answer how he could speak to snakes, but spoke, "I guess you haven't really done anything, so it's okay." Though it sort of hurt to admit that. At the same time, he knew it was true, Tom hadn't done anything to him yet, and maybe never would? It was something to hope for. "If you do, then I guess I can just be angry at you after the fact." Though Tom had ruined a lot of lives. The simple solution was to kill him. Harry never wished to kill anybody though. No, not even Voldemort. He only defended himself so far. Besides, if it was true that Tom hadn't done anything yet, then there was hope for him.

Tom was giving him a look, almost disbelieving. "I'm not giving you my parent's names though. I don't want the timeline messed up more than I probably already am doing. Besides, I only really know my parents names." He didn't know anybody passed that.

"You should look into your linage. There is a book of records here in the school library of everybody who's gone to Hogwarts and some linage lines. If they have attended, you should have an easy time tracing it back." Like Tom himself would no doubt be doing after this conversation. Harry supposed it might be nice to see if he had any relatives running around. Of course, he'd have to steer clear of them no matter what. It sounded nice to see how far his line sprawled back in time.

It was an odd concept, seeing that he had family when he was the last one in his time, but he was sort of excited for it. Maybe there were some members of his family running around. Again, he couldn't do anything with them, but it would be nice to see them. Hopefully they were happy.

"I might do that." Harry muttered, knowing he was going to.

"I'm also assuming you knew parselmouth before entering Frederick's body?" Harry gave a slow nod, "So it passed on, despite you having different blood. I'm curious how that works." It wasn't even something Harry had thought of, but he did wonder why he could still use it in anothers body.

Tom seemed to drop it though, moving to another seat, he didn't give a verbal dismissal, but the other pulled out what seemed to be ancient runes homework. Harry wasn't surprised to see Tom was taking that class. Standing himself, he packed up his stuff. "I'll see you tomorrow I guess." He said before leaving, not bothering to wait for Tom's response. Still, they were getting along alright for now. Harry wasn't completely stupid though, Tom hadn't changed, apparently wouldn't. Harry wasn't sure how they would continue to get along, but for now he was… okay with Tom's presence. That was more than he ever thought he could get. Though he knew at this point it could turn. Probably into something more hateful. They had an unspoken truce for now though, and Harry was rather enjoying that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys all enjoy this chapter! I know I promised a larger word count, but it was a natural stopping spot here, so yeah...
> 
> In case you're wondering why Harry mentioned Parselmouth to Tom at first, it was because he thought the other already knew about it. I mean, why wouldn't he, right? Answers will come eventually.


	6. Confronting Morals

The duel wasn't without injury. Tom didn't pull his punches, but neither did Harry. They both ended up sore, but Harry was pleased to have won the first one. Though it had taken almost the entire afternoon. He was exhausted, and didn't envy Tom who had a class afterwards. After, Harry had taken up the duty of correcting some of Tom's mistakes. It obviously hadn't been something the other had expected, but he hadn't been insulted, just listening to Harry carefully. In return, he gave some pointers to Harry himself, in turn surprising him. After that, Harry went to rest in his dorm and lick his wounds so to speak. Not that there was many. Tom may not have pulled any punches, but he hadn't sent too many truly dangerous spells at Harry. Though he was sure the other already knew a few. At least they dueled in the same place, so the already destroyed classroom was in even worse shape, but nobody disturbed them.

Saturday he was still sore, and was glad it was the weekend, but he had to drag himself out of the Ravenclaw common room to eat lunch and then went to the library to meet Tom for another study session. With that, he was free of Tom for the next two days. He hung out with Jake on the other side of the library, and Myrtle seemed to have stayed in the dorm most the day, because she didn't join them that day. Not unusual.

On Monday he considered confronting Jason, but then disregarded it. He'd give it another week at least for the other to stew. Tuesday came quickly and Harry honestly expected the question to be something about the chamber of secrets or about his heritage. Instead, Tom asked, "You mentioned before I don't get the teaching position, why?"

Ah, so Tom had been interested. He just deemed the first question he asked more important at the time. Harry supposed the other wouldn't ask more about his heritage. He was probably researching it and making sure Harry had even been truthful in the first place. "Dumbledore wouldn't allow you." Tom nodded, seeming to completely understand from just that statement. Harry was actually very surprised how quickly that sated the others curiosity, "You're not going to ask more on it?"

"No. I understand why it happened. Dumbledore has always distrusted and disliked me. I'm not surprised he would deny me something I wanted." Harry frowned at the explanation, it didn't sit right with him. Sure, he was angry at Dumbledore himself, but he supposed that paled in comparison to Tom's dislike. Tom seemed to note something on Harry's face and a small frown tugged at his full lips, "Don't tell me you like the old fool?"

"He's done a lot for me."

Tom snorted at that, "Then you're either too blind to see his downsides or were useful to him somehow. Probably both."

"And you're just biased."

"Perhaps. However, I like to think for myself. Just because the majority of the school seems to revere him doesn't mean I have to. He manipulates others very well I suppose, but that hardly excuses blindness." Tom had a sneer that would have put Draco's to shame.

"Whatever." Harry growled, knowing very well they weren't going to get along on this subject, like many others.

"Tell me, what exactly has he done for you that's so great to ensure blind loyalty?"

Harry really should have thought about the question, but as with his temper, he usually didn't think, "He protected me."

"How?" Tom asked, seeming patient and waiting for the answer, as if genuinely curious.

"He… made sure I was safe under a sort of blood protection or something."

Tom's eyebrows lifted, "That is rare, and only somebody with access to your blood could do something like that. You gave him such a powerful tool?"

"What? No." Harry said, confused, "When… When my mom died, she sacrificed her life to protect me. It made a powerful protection spell."

Tom stared at Harry for a long, uncomfortable moment, and Harry shifted. "Who did you grow up with?"

He didn't really understand that question, but he would entertain the other, "My muggle relatives."

The other sighed out, shaking his head, "No wonder then. It's a bit of obscure magic, blood protection spells. Many consider it dark magics. Hardly, but that's not the point. Most purebloods still know some things about them. Muggles however… It explains some things." Was Tom implying he'd explored obscure dark arts before he'd looked up his heritage? Then again, he'd probably wanted a lot of spells in his repertoire to pay some students back for bullying him. "What exactly was this spell supposedly doing?"

"Protecting me from Voldemort. As far as I understood, it created some sort of protection while I was at the D- my family's house during the summers." Though it felt bitter to call them family.

"That's stupid." Tom said simply, "There's no such spell or anything similar that I've ever heard of. Nothing is renewed like that after you were gone nearly the whole year. Some wards need their master's presence to be at full strength, but they will weaken after a month, let alone a school year. They would fall completely after four months. The ones that require constant attention like you seem to be implying anyway. That's why most don't choose those wards. While they can be more powerful, one is essentially homebound if they want it to continue."

"But it did work. He never came after me."

"Because your protection was within yourself. No matter where you went. From what I've gathered, it is what I originally suspected. Considering your mother's sacrifice, I can only guess she knew that she was going to die, or at least a probability. Enough to go through with a powerful ritual. Yes, her sacrifice did protect you, but the protection would not leave your person against the person who murdered her. It would only be effective against them too. Only if they somehow got your blood would they be able to overcome some of the protective spells, and even then, it'd be few and far between. Unfortunately, it only lasts for usually ten years, unless you're underage, then it dissipates when you come of age. Quite a handy spell, honestly."

Harry stared at Tom, he wanted to demand how he should ever trust his words, but it made sense. How he'd defeated Quirrell-Voldemort hybrid in his first year. How Voldemort had been able to touch him only after getting some of his blood. Harry felt like an idiot for being tricked, felt confused that his mother had apparently used something labeled as dark, but mostly he was angry. "You're telling me I never had to go back? I never had to step foot in that house?"

"No." Tom looked rather curious. Probably that Harry had focused on that aspect.

"That bastard. Dumbledore told me my whole life I had to go back every summer! He could have sent me anywhere! I could have stayed with anyone." Even Sirius, who would have been much more preferable. "He lied to me!" Harry stood, wishing to go and do something, but he stayed, shaking in anger and closing his eyes. He had already been doubting Dumbledore since the man had started keeping him in the dark. This though… Actually sending him back to the Dursleys for absolutely no reason for so many years. Even after Harry begged him. It angered him more than a lot of things.

"Well, he has yet to do any of that." Tom spoke simply. His voice was calm, and Harry tried to listen to it, trying to focus on something other than his anger. "I merely wish for you not to follow him blindly. I would have to put an end to these sessions if you remained so blindly, faithfully loyal to him."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He felt mad, but what was the use? Dumbledore was already dead in his timeline, and in this one he hadn't done any of that yet. Harry sat down again and ran a hand through his hair, wincing again at how different it felt. "I wasn't blindly faithful… It's just he was the only person I could turn to for a long time."

"Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps he wanted it that way?"

Considering this, he thought of how it could have been living with Sirius, even on the run it would have been better, of that he was sure. Yet that wasn't how it happened. Because Sirius had been hesitant to accept, but also because Dumbledore insisted on the protection that the Dursley's provided. Sighing heavily, he nodded glumly, consenting that it was possible. He just hoped his whole life wasn't a lie, but it seemed large chunks might have been. Tom seemed satisfied with that, but spoke, "If you need further proof, I'm sure I could get you the book that had the particular blood protection ritual that was most probably used."

He was a bit surprised Tom had offered it up, but Harry supposed the other wanted his loyalty firmly out of Dumbledore's reach. He had to know if all this was true, so he nodded again, accepting the offer. "I think we should end this here for today. I'll see you tomorrow." Tom stood, starting to pick up once more. Harry sat for a moment longer before standing himself.

"Thanks Tom." Harry muttered, not sure if it was for the other dealing with his flare of anger, or just telling him these facts.

Seemingly a bit confused, Tom turned to look at him, "I'm surprised you're saying your thanks. I just wanted you away from Dumbledore."

"But you didn't have to tell me everything you did. I do appreciate it." Giving a slight nod of acknowledgment, Tom refocused on putting the books away. Still, Harry voiced his next thought, "What do you get out of all this?"

Tom paused, but didn't look back at Harry. He was silent a moment, perhaps thinking up a good lie, but that was proven false as the other muttered, "I'm not sure yet. I'm sure you'll know soon after I do."

Finding the answer weird, not to mention a bit concerning, Harry knew that was the best he was going to get out of the other for the time being, so he left. He had a lot to think over.

* * *

Harry still went to classes and was thankful the one he had with Dumbledore had already passed before the conversation with Tom. The study session on Wednesday went well, and Harry had most of Thursday to think to himself about everything he had learned. He just wondered why Dumbledore would leave him with the Dursleys, he saw no reason anybody would be so adamant about it. He couldn't see what Dumbledore gained from it. Perhaps he just didn't want to deal with Harry.

That sort of stung to think it, but he couldn't think of anything else that made much sense. The fact it happened at all was more than annoying. Harry really did feel betrayed and angry over it, but as Tom said there was little he could do, Dumbledore hadn't done it to him yet. It was a moot point to get upset over it now.

Friday Tom didn't go any easier on him then before. Something Harry actually did appreciate. It gave him the opportunity to stop thinking and get lost in the duel. After they once more exchanged tips, Tom actually pulled a pretty thick tome from his bag and handed it to Harry with only the comment he wanted it back before the end of the year. Harry was a bit surprised at the long time he could keep it, but knew he wouldn't keep it that long. He did ask where Tom even found it, only to get a secretive smile in response.

Of course Harry was a bit annoyed that the other was so blatantly keeping things secret, but he figured that where Tom had gotten a book was relatively harmless. Plus it was probably in Tom's nature to keep secrets. That didn't mean Harry liked it any. Still, he didn't push for something so stupid, especially when Tom was doing him a favor. One he hoped the other wouldn't ask anything in return. Considering he hadn't when first offering it, the likelihood was slightly decreased.

That night Harry read up on the theories and introduction into the magics that the book contained, ignoring his body wishing to sleep as long as he could before finally succumbing to the desire some time early in the morning. At least he could sleep in. He was tempted to skip studying with Tom to read more up on the book he was given. Eventually he decided against it, Tom would not take it well and while this truce of theirs was going on, he didn't want to be the one to ruin it for something that he could very well do later. He still took the book with him, not trusting his roommates as far as he could throw them. It was for the best, he hadn't finished it and Harry also got the feeling Tom would not be forgiving if he lost the book. Not that he cared overly much, but even he could admit hanging out with Tom had proved to be very useful.

Too bad he hadn't seen Jake or Myrtle as much, he was missing hanging out with them, truth be told. He still saw them, just not as often as the first half of the year. Pushing the thoughts aside, he got up and went to meet with Tom. They studied for several hours until Harry had to call it quits. After that, Tom of course asked his question. "What did you do to Merc?" It wasn't an accusation, more curiosity and interest.

"I had a couple friends who were really good at making spells and other magical things, mostly for pranks. I don't know much about spell crafting, but I knew their spell enough to power it up some. It's originally supposed to just be something to cause some nightmares. It's a start."

Tom smiled, "Considering it's a made spell, it would already be hard to dispel, but I'm assuming you went ahead with using parseltongue?" Harry nodded his confirmation, "You say it's just the start?" This gained another nod from Harry. He wasn't just letting the other off with some scary imagery. "It's a decent start." Tom hummed out.

"Wow. Such high praise." Sarcasm thick, but he knew that coming from Tom it wasn't that bad. "I suppose I would worry if I actually got your approval though." He didn't want to go so dark Tom would be proud. That would be a bit much for him.

"I've given you praise over your studies."

Okay, the other had a point there, "Yeah, but that's different from getting vengeance on somebody else. You seem like you won't feel it's even unless you do something at least five times worse than what was done to you."

"I aim for at least ten times worse." Tom corrected with a smile, "It's the only acceptable way to go about things."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head to show that he didn't agree, Harry said, "An eye for an eye."

"Are you implying I should try and do something only just as bad? No, then they will think that they can compete and hold their own. It will slowly get worse too, but if you decide to show them how very bad it could be, they're sure to leave you alone. But for a moment, I will entertain you. Say that you are going to get exact revenge, considering Frederick was killed, where does that leave you?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that." Harry said, but turned serious at the question, "I won't kill anyone if that's what you're implying. They attacked him and deserve to be punished, but they don't deserve to die. That aside he might have lived through it if…" Harry hesitated, not sure he should share, it seemed rather private to Frederick.

However, Tom seemed to catch on and sneered, "He really was pathetic."

"Don't start with that." Harry snapped. Tom's expression became more neutral, and he only offered a shrug, not taking back his words. "Just because you fear death more than anything, doesn't mean you have any right to judge somebody who suffers so much that they do such a thing."

"Don't assume to know my fears. That tactless comment aside-" Harry glared, like what Tom had said hadn't been a tactless comment, "Everybody suffers. True, some worse than others, but I will never say that what he did was right. But I tire of this conversation. I only really care about what your plans are on your quest for vengeance. A curious thing, seeing you didn't know him."

"That doesn't matter. The poor kid didn't deserve what happened to him. I'm not just going to let who did it get away with it either." Just thinking that they probably thought they could get away without anything happening to them was annoying.

"Your sense of justice is something to question."

"Whatever, is that all?"

"I believe so. Unless you'd like to answer another question." Harry snorted, answering that. Standing, he started packing up.

* * *

Another two weeks went by, Harry read through a good portion of the blood protections book, but had yet to come across the ritual Tom had told him about. Though he would wait until he finished it. He certainly learned a lot about blood rituals though, some of which made him uncomfortable. None were so bad that they made him sick or want to stop reading, so that was better than his imagination had cooked up.

Tom had asked a couple more questions, but nothing Harry found too serious, not compared to some others he had asked. Harry was waiting for the other shoe to drop in that regard. Now though, Harry was in a deserted old classroom, similar to the one him and Tom used to duel in. Harry was waiting there for Jason Merc. He had decided he let the other suffer long enough before the confrontation. So he had sent him a letter with the information of where to meet.

Harry knew that Jason could bring backup, and he really hoped not. He'd rather not have to fight off anyone, let alone several people. He had gotten better at dueling with the practice with Tom, but he would rather not put his life on the line after only four or five mock duels. Hopefully the other felt confident enough to come himself, or at least not thinking clearly on lack of sleep. Either way, Harry relaxed a little when only one person stepped into the room.

He hadn't bothered hiding, he wasn't very good at disillusionment spells and he didn't have his cloak during this time period. The other stood there, glaring at Harry menacingly. Honestly though, Harry felt anger at his appearance. The other was clearly at least a couple years higher than any fourth year, wearing Hufflepuff robes. What was he doing attacking younger years? Not even the fact he looked haggard and obviously hadn't had a good night's sleep in some time soothed Harry.

"Anderson." The other sneered, "You're the one responsible for this?"

"You mean the nightmares? How have they been treating you?" The male pulled out his wand, but Harry was quick to do the same.

"You're going to stop them, you little shit. I don't know where you got it in your head that you can get away with this, but you're going to suffer much more than last time."

"Believe me, you don't want to duel me." Harry stated, the other didn't seem to believe him, the raising of his wand proving that. Harry sent a blasting curse in the middle of the room, throwing the other male back several feet. Harry used the moment he was dazed to summon the others wand, letting it clatter to the ground by his feet. The other recovered after a moment and stared up at Harry with a glare. Harry doubted his expression was much better. "You and five others ganged up on me. I'm going to make you all suffer."

"What, with some small nightmares? If this is the worse you're going to do, I think we'll be fine. Not surprising."

Harry took a deep breath, making up his mind quickly. "No. The thing with this spell is it'll get worse. It'll start with nightmares, and bleed into reality until it consumes your mind completely." Harry of course wasn't originally planning on letting it go that far and see the boy go to St. Mungo's. However, now he wasn't so sure. Perhaps a trip there with the other on the brink of insanity might do some good. "Hope I'm feeling more merciful by then." Harry kicked the boy's wand into the far corner.

"You're bluffing." The male snorted, clearly not believing it.

"Good luck trying to remove it." The worse part was he wasn't even sure if he was bluffing or not. He was tempted, but he would give himself time to cool off and think about it. He wasn't expecting the meeting to go quite like this. Part of him wasn't really surprised either, just angry and disappointed. The other would see just how serious Harry was about this soon. "And if you tell the teachers, I'm sure they'd love to know who was responsible for my own hospitalization."

Leaving through the open door, the older student didn't try calling Harry back or demanding the spell be removed. Perhaps part of him realized that Harry was serious. It did little to quell Harry's anger.

* * *

Considering all that happened on Sunday, Harry had Monday free before he saw Tom again. Which was good, he didn't want to show up in a foul mood. Tom would probably question him on it, or Harry might just snap at the other over something stupid. Both were equally possible. As it stood, Myrtle was already worried about his mood, but thankfully had enough sense to leave Harry alone to ride through it.

When Wednesday came around, Harry still hadn't cheered up much. He was able to focus on the studies rather well though, and the tutoring Tom offered him, getting absorbed into it. Harry even knew he was more quiet than usual, especially when their session concluded and Tom asked, "Not that this is my question for today, but what's got you in such a fine mood?"

"Merc." Harry muttered, hoping that would satisfy some of Tom's curiosity.

"You approached him then?" Of course Tom didn't let it rest there.

"Yeah. I'm leaving the spell on him. The way it's going, it'll probably worsen quickly." Harry grumbled darkly.

"How much will it worsen?"

The other seemed curious, which didn't surprise Harry, "Until he's completely and irreversibly insane." If Harry let it go that long. He still wasn't sure if he would. Maybe he should stick with his original thought of just having them all expelled. The problem with that was it took a lot to expel a student from Hogwarts, let alone six. He mostly wanted that so they couldn't graduate, and couldn't do anything with their lives. But making it so they couldn't live was a bit different. Still, he wasn't feeling very forgiving at the moment.

"I'm surprised you confronted him. It puts you at risk." Harry shrugged his shoulder, already knowing that. He didn't need to be told. Tom shook his head, seemingly at Harry's dismissal. "Are you going to let the spell go on that long?"

"I don't honestly know." Harry muttered quietly, but Tom heard him fine.

The taller male examined him, seeming to debate internally about something before coming to some sort of conclusion and speaking, "Tell me, do you really believe Frederick was the only one targeted?"

Harry paused at this, watching Tom, knowing the other was trying to get at something, other than just what his words implied, "What do you mean?"

"Frederick wasn't the only one Jason targeted. True, he and the five others were fond of tormenting Frederick, but Jason loves picking on those he sees as weaker. Weak, bumbling fool he himself is. Point being, even since you've been out of the hospital, he's targeted others. None have ended up hospitalized, but that doesn't mean much. I thought I choose an easy person for you to target for the first one. Seeing you hesitate is rather discouraging. I would have thought you'd take this more seriously."

"I am serious about this… And I didn't realize… I guess I just didn't think about others."

"Clearly." Tom said, unimpressed with Harry's weak excuse, making him feel all the worse. "He's despicable honestly. Especially what with his unwanted sexual advances."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, gripping at some of it, almost tempted to pull at some of it. He knew Tom meant rape, and putting together the early information that the guy was picking on younger years made him even more sick. Tom was right, he was going too easy, especially if there were others at risk. "Why haven't you done anything then? If you find him so despicable?" Harry demanded. Not just Tom, why did nobody help?

"And what exactly? Help others? Seem like a bleeding heart and get targeted more? I would have thought you knew I'm not the self-sacrificing type."

"Why is this time like this? Nobody was this badly bullied in my time." Harry was sick and angry and he wanted some sort of answer.

"I can't say what has changed, obviously, if what you say is true. I only know this time. I doubt things change that much, people are horrid. There is rarely reason." Harry was suddenly reminded that Tom was most likely bullied as a first year, possibly further.

"Were you ever… Targeted in such a way?"

"Has there been a murder yet?" Tom questioned back in ways of an answer, but his expression was darker, "I don't appreciate the personal question either. My advice to you, don't ask muggleborns, or half-blood as the case may be, about their experience of being bullied."

"Sorry." Harry said, wincing, he hadn't thought about it, but it would bring back bad memories, and it was rather invasive of Harry. He just hadn't thought, the idea it could have happened to Tom had just caught him so off guard. "I didn't mean to… Sorry."

Tom sighed, seeming to drop it, "Point being, he doesn't deserve your hesitance." At that, Harry gave a nod.

"Why are you encouraging me so much though?"

"Because, he attacked you personally. I do want him dealt with. You doing so won't be seen as weak, people will know it's just revenge. In ways, it's the only way without more bullying occurring."

"I don't like how that works, but I understand, and I won't go easy on him." He wasn't really planning on going easy, but with this information… Well, he hadn't thought of others, and that was a bit self-centered of him. He needed to do what he could, more than he had been doing. Not just for Frederick, but others.

"Good." Tom stated simply. It was odd, Tom encouraging Harry to help others and enact revenge against the people who were horrible bullies. No, they were worse than just bullies. It was still a weird experience, to say the least. But he knew he agreed with Tom.

It was a curious thing, seeing as the death eaters weren't any better. Yet here Tom was, finding them despicable. What had changed through all these years? How had Tom become Voldemort? It was a question he never asked. Dumbledore was sure that Tom had been bad from the beginning. Harry wasn't fond of that assumption, now more than ever. What exactly had happened? He was tempted to ask, but he had already been rather insensitive during this conversation, it was best he didn't add more to it for now. "Did ah… You want to ask your question then?"

Like the conversation hadn't been trying already, but Harry wanted a change of subject. He needed to think about all this. Though he was sure now that he wouldn't alleviate the spell. "No, not today. I'll ask two next time."

That seemed fair, and Harry did rather want to try and think of some other ways to punish not only Jason but whoever else Tom turned over. He doubted that any of them were better than the first, truly. One thing was for sure, he was very upset and angry for whoever had been hurt. Saying goodbye to Tom after packing up, he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! Hope you all enjoy the chapter. Despite it not being very festive, I wanted to post something for Christmas.
> 
> Sorry it's not very cheery.


End file.
